•RAN 


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University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


THREE 
WONDERLANDS 

OF  THE 
AMERICAN  WEST 


Being  the  notes  of  a  traveler,  concerning  the  Yellowstone  Park, 

the  Yosemite  National  Park,  and  the  Grand  Canyon 

of  the  Colorado  River,  with  a  chapter  on 

other  wonders  of  the  Great 

American  West 


BY 


Thos.  D.  Murphy 

rj 

Author  of  "British  Highways  and  Byways  from  a  Motor  Car" 
"In  Unfamiliar  England  with  a  Motor  Car,"  Etc. 


With  sixteen  reproductions  in  color  from  original  paintings  by 

Thomas  Moran,  N.  A. 

and  thirty-two  duogravures  from  photographs.     Also  maps  of 

the  Yellowstone,  Yosemite,  and  Grand 

Canyon  regions 


Copyright,  1912 
By  L.  C.  PAGE  &,  COMPANY 

(Incorporated) 

All  Rights  Reserved 

First  I  mpression,  January,  1912 


A  Word  Prefatory 

My  own  case  was  perhaps  a  typical  one;  I 
had  read  in  a  desultory  manner  of  the  grandeur 
and  beauty  of  our  Western  wonderlands,  and 
had  listened  to  what  I  thought  the  rather  too 
highly  colored  encomiums  of  friends  who  had 
visited  them.  Photographs  and  illustrations  of 
the  scenery  are  common  enough,  but  no  ade- 
quate conception  of  vastness  can  be  gained  from 
a  picture;  it  can  convey  little  idea  of  the  un- 
measured abysms  of  these  mountain  vales  and 
canyons,  and  of  the  fathomless  blue  heavens, 
pierced  by  titantic  peaks,  stretching  away  in  dis- 
tances suggestive  of  infinity.  I  was  only  lan- 
guidly interested  until  it  chanced  my  good 
fortune  to  see  several  original  paintings  by 
Thomas  Moran,  the  wizard  who  comes  nearer 
than  anything  excepting  a  personal  visit  in 
presenting  to  the  eyes  the  true  spirit  of  these 
wonderlands,  and  making  one  realize  their 
glorious  color  and  grandeur.  I  found  myself 
wondering  if  it  could  be  possible  that  there  was 
such  an  enchanted  land  as  he  portrays — such  a 


land  of  weird  mountains,  crystal  cataracts  and 
emerald  rivers,  all  glowing  with  a  riot  of  color 
that  seems  more  like  an  iridescent  dream  than  a 
sober  reality. 

It  may  be  on  account  of  this  very  scepticism 
that  thousands  never  see  the  most  inspiring 
marvels  of  our  own  country.  We  question  the 
fidelity  of  artist  and  word-painter,  and  spend 
our  vacations  in  Europe  or  in  some  conventional 
resort  hotel,  while  the  great  world  of  beauty 
and  soul-stirring  wonders  of  the  American  West 
remain  undiscovered  and  unexplored  so  far  as 
we  are  concerned.  Or  perhaps  some  are  rather 
appalled  at  the  vast  distances  they  must  cover 
by  rail,  and  the  discomforts — which  prove  more 
fanciful  than  real,  after  all — that  they  dread  to 
undergo.  Whatever  the  reason,  there  are  but  few 
thousands  yearly  who  visit  the  Yellowstone,  the 
Yosemite  and  the  Grand  Canyon,  out  of  the 
millions  who  might  find  recreation  and  enjoy- 
ment in  these  virgin  retreats  of  nature. 

However,  it  is  refreshing  to  observe  that 
the  hegira  to  the  wilderness  is  on  the  increase. 
The  man  or  woman  who  takes  a  vacation  trip, 
as  a  rest  and  relaxation,  is  learning  that  these 
boons  are  hardly  to  be  found  in  crowded  cities 
and  fashion-hampered  hotels.  For  real  rest- 
fulness  one  must  get  near  to  nature,  out  under 
the  unsullied  skies,  among  the  mountains,  with 
their  painted  crags,  towering  pines  and  leaping 


streams;  it  matters  not  how  many  fellow-pil- 
grims may  be  bound  to  the  same  destination, 
there  is  always  the  sense  of  solitude  in  these 
virgin  wildernesses,  and  always  nooks  where 
one  may  be  as  much  alone  as  he  wishes.  And 
this  is  pre-eminently  true  of  the  wonderlands 
which  I  shall  endeavor  to  describe,  in  whose 
bounds  may  be  found  perhaps  a  greater  variety 
of  strange  natural  phenomena  and  striking  and 
beautiful  scenery  than  in  similar  limits  anywhere 
else  in  the  entire  world.  So  great  are  their 
dimensions  that  one  is  never  crowded,  even  in 
the  height  of  the  season.  The  hotels  and  camps 
may  be  full,  but  the  greatest  number  of  visitors 
at  any  one  time  is  but  the  merest  handful  in  the 
pine-clad  and  rock-bound  solitudes.  Once  away 
from  the  immediate  vicinity  of  tent  or  inn,  one 
may  commune  with  nature  quite  alone  and 
undisturbed. 


Note 

Acknowledgments  are  due  to  Mr.  W.  H. 
Simpson,  of  the  Sante  Fe  Railway;  to  Mr.  J.  W. 
Stewart,  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railway;  Mr. 
Chas.  S.  Fee,  of  the  Southern  Pacific  Railway; 
Mr.  D.  E.  Burley,  of  the  Oregon  Short  Line;  the 
Pillsbury  Picture  Co.,  of  Oakland,  Calif.,  and  Mr. 
F.  J.  Haynes,  the  well  known  photographer  of 
St.  Paul,  for  the  photographs  which  I  have  repro- 
duced in  this  book,  and  for  other  courtesies  too 
numerous  to  mention.  I  am  also  under  obliga- 
tion to  Messrs.  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.,  of  Bos- 
ton, for  the  extensive  quotation  from  John  Muir's 
book,  "Our  National  Parks/'  and  to  the  Santa  Fe 
Railway  for  numerous  extracts  from  its  various 
interesting  publications.  The  copyrights  of  the 
original  paintings  by  Thomas  Moran,  which  are 
shown  in  this  book,  and  which  are  reproduced  by 
color  photographic  process,  are  owned  by  The 
Thos.  D.  Murphy  Co.,  of  Red  Oak,  Iowa,  which 
concern  controls  all  copyright  privileges  upon 
Mr.  Moran's  more  recent  pictures. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


Contents 


The  Yellowstone 


I.    THE  HIGHWAYS,  THEJ  CAMPS  AND  HOTELS 1 

II.     NATURAL,  WONDERS  OP  THE   PARK— THE  GEYSERS 

AND   HOT    SPRINGS 17 

III.  NATURAL    WONDERS    OF    THE    PARK— -THE    LAKES 

AND     RIVERS 21 

IV.  NATURAL  WONDERS  OF  THE  PARK— THE)  CANYON, 

MT.  WASHBURN  AND  TOWER  FALLS 29 

V.  THE  FAUNA  AND  FLORA  OF  THE  PARK 43 

VI.  THE  HISTORY  AND  TRADITIONS  OF  THE  PARK..  48 


The  Yosemite 


I.  THE    VALLEY    AND    THE   MOUNTAINS 59 

II.  UP    GLACIER    POINT    TRAIL 67 

III.  TO   THE   MARIPOSA   GROVE 78 

IV.  THE   RETURN  TO   EL  PORTAL '«! 

V.  GEOLOGY,   HISTORY   AND   GENERAL  INFORMATION..  99 


The  Grand  Canyon 


I.     A  FIRST  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  GRAND  CANYON 110 

II.     DOWN  BRIGHT    ANGEL  TRAIL 119 

III.  AT    THE    EL    TOVAR 127 

IV.  THE       DISCOVERY      AND      EXPLORATION      OF      THE 

CANYON     i 135 

V.     OTHER  WONDERS  OF  THE  CANYON  REGION 147 

Other  Wonders  of  the  American  West  162 


r-*ZT31-     ~ 


BRIDAL  VEIL  MEADOW,  TOSEMITE  VALLEY 62 

EL  CAPITAN,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 64 

MIRROR  LAKE,  YOSETMITE  VALLEY 68 

NEVADA  FALLS,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 70 

VERNAL  FALLS,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY , 72 

TWILIGHT,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 74 

VERNAL  FALLS,  YOSEMITE   VALLEY , 76 

OVERHANGING  ROCK,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 78 

"GRIZZLY  GIANT,"  MARIPOSA  GROVE,  CALIFORNIA    84 
"VERMONT"   AND   "WAWONA,"   MARIPOSA  GROVE, 

CALIFORNIA  86 

BRIDAL  VEIL  FALLS,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 92 

YOSEMITE;  FALLS,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 96 

A  BRIGHT  ANGEL  TRAIL  PARTY—GRAND  CANYON.  122 
VIEW  FROM  TERRACE,  EL  TOVAR,  GRAND  CANYON  130 

NEAR  EL  TOVAR,  GRAND  CANYON 132 

THE  INNE"R  GORGE,  GRAND  CANYON 136 

LOOKING    NORTH    FROM    GRAND    VIEW    POINT, 

GRAND  CANYON    144 

SUNSET,  GRAND  CANYON 152 

SAN  GABRIEL  MISSION,  CALIFORNIA 164 

CLOISTERS,  CAPISTRANO  MISSION,  CALIFORNIA 166 

THE  CEMETERY  GARDEN,   SANTA  BARBARA  MIS- 
SION, CALIFORNIA   168 

MT.  RAINIER-TACOMA  REFLECTED  IN  SPANAWAY 

LAKE     172 

Maps 

YELLOWSTONE1    NATIONAL    PARK 50 

TOvSEMITE    NATIONAL    PARK 100 

GRAND  CANYON  REGION  ..  .160 


TOWER  CREEK,  YELLOWSTONE  PARK 

From  the  Original  Painting  by  Thomas  Moran,  N.  A. 


The  Yellowstone 

i 

THE  HIGHWAYS,  THE  CAMPS  AND  HOTELS 

The  Government  of  the  United  States 
builded  far  better  than  it  knew  when  by  Act  of 
Congress  this  wonderful  region  was  set  aside — 
sacred  from  the  ax  of  the  woodman,  the  deadly 
rifle  of  the  hunter,  the  shriek  of  the  railway 
engine  and  the  dash  and  dust  of  the  motor  car 
— for  "the  benefit  and  enjoyment  of  the  people/' 
Like  many  another,  I  had  queried,  ere  my  visit, 
why  the  trip  might  not  be  shortened  and  made 
easier  by  the  introduction  of  the  trolley  car  or 
automobile,  but  the  trip  itself  is  the  most  suffi- 
cient answer.  Enthusiast  as  I  am  for  the 
winged  wheels,  I  am  glad  they  are  banned  and 
barred  in  Yellowstone  Park.  I  rejoice  that 
there  is  one  spot  still  sacred  to  the  old  order  of 
things — where  you  may  have  the  solitude  of  the 
days  of  '49,  where  your  old  Concord  coach-and- 
four  rolls  up  to  your  inn  as  it  did  in  the  halcyon 
days  of  half  a  century  ago,  and  where  we  may 
see  the  old-time  Wild  West  as  our  fathers  saw 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

it.  It  may  be  a  rather  subdued  and  convention- 
alized Wild  West,  it  is  true — the  Indians  with 
anything  but  hostile  intent  watching  your  train 
as  it  glides  through  the  little  stations  on  the 
way,  and  you  are  forcibly  reminded  of  the  dif- 
ferent state  of  affairs,  but  yesterday,  as  it  were, 
when  you  pass  within  full  view  of  the  melan- 
choly rows  of  stones  marking  the  site  of  Ouster's 
last  battle.  The  wild  animals  in  the  confines  of 
the  Park  hardly  deserve  the  adjective;  when 
some  timid  deer  looks  mildly  at  you  from  among 
the  trees,  hardly  caring  to  get  out  of  your  way, 
or  when  some  big  friendly  brown  bear  sidles  up 
to  you  and  takes  a  morsel  out  of  your  hand  you 
think  rather  of  menagerie  animals  than  denizens 
of  the  wild.  How  tame  everything  seems  con- 
trasted with  the  exploits  of  our  childhood  heroes 
in  this  same  Wild  West!  And  in  the  really 
excellent  and  in  some  cases  unique  hotels  in  the 
Park,  one  finds  the  very  antithesis  of  the 
humble  shack — more  saloon  than  inn — that  at 
rare  intervals  offered  hospitality  to  the  western 
wayfarer  of  olden  days. 

But  in  nothing  has  the  change  been  more 
marked  than  in  the  system  of  transportation 
that  has  brought  this  once  remote  region  to  our 
very  doors.  A  day  and  two  nights  in  a  Pullman 
car,  gliding  over  the  splendid  road-beds  of%the_ 


THE   YELLOWSTONE 

several  west-bound  railways,  takes  one  from 
Chicago  to  the  Yellowstone.  If  the  Northern 
Pacific  is  chosen,  one  wakes  in  the  morning  to 
find  himself  at  the  beautiful  and  capacious  Liv- 
ingston station,  and  a  ride  of  two  or  three  hours 
along  the  rapid  river  brings  the  great  arch  of 
the  Gardiner  entrance  in  sight.  Or,  one  may 
enter  the  Park  from  the  west,  coming  by  the 
Oregon  Short  Line.  A  day  may  be  devoted  to 
the  sights  of  Salt  Lake  City — its  famous  temple 
and  wonderful  but  rapidly  vanishing  lake — and 
the  journey  resumed  at  night.  From  Salt  Lake 
City  the  trip  to  the  Park  may  be  comfortably 
made  over  night  and  the  tour  begun  from  the 
new  Yellowstone  Hotel  the  next  morning. 
Either  entrance  will  offer  some  advantage  in  the 
way  of  things  to  be  seen  and  the  plan  of  coming 
by  one  and  leaving  by  the  other  is  a  good  one. 
Where  this  is  done  the  Gardiner  entrance 
should  be  chosen  for  the  beginning  of  the  jour- 
ney through  the  Park.  A  glance  at  the  maps  of 
the  route  generally  followed  will  make  clear  the 
reason  for  this.  It  will  be  seen  that  if  the 
western  entrance  be  chosen,  in  leaving  by 
Gardiner  one  will  miss  some  ten  miles  of  the 
road  below  Norris  Basin;  and  though  this  must 
be  traversed  twice  if  one  enters  by  Gardiner  and 
leaves  by  the  Yellowstone  gate,  it  entails  no 

3 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

hardship.  If  one  is  to  return  by  the  same  gate- 
way, I  would  recommend  the  Gardiner  entrance, 
since  otherwise  the  interesting  bit  of  road 
between  Mammoth  Hot  Springs  and  the  station 
is  likely  to  be  missed — six  or  seven  miles  of  the 
most  perfect  road  in  the  Park,  with  much  pic- 
turesque scenery  along  it.  However,  the  two 
routes  are  so  nearly  identical  that  the  matter  of 
personal  convenience  may  well  be  allowed  to 
influence  one's  decision  as  to  which  to  adopt. 
The  regulation  trip  by  the  way  of  Gardiner 
comprises  about  one  hundred  and  fifty-eight 
miles  and  the  average  of  the  roadway  is  sur- 
prisingly good.  The  whole  route  has  been 
skillfully  chosen  by  government  engineers,  and 
considering  the  difficult  and  mountainous  nature 
of  the  country  is  exceptionally  free  from  steep 
grades.  In  course  of  the  last  few  years  the  road 
has  been  greatly  improved;  it  has  many  fine 
stretches  of  macadam  and  while  portions  of  it 
are  as  yet  in  rather  poor  condition,  these  are 
always  passable  on  account  of  the  nature  of  the 
soil,  which  does  not  cut  up  into  deep  mud  in  the 
wet  weather  not  uncommon  in  the  Yellowstone; 
but  on  the  other  hand,  it  may  be  distressingly 
dusty  during  the  longer  dry  spells.  The  gov- 
ernment representatives  have  done  much  to 
overcome  this  by  installing  a  sprinkler-cart 

4 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

service,  which  at  present  covers  about  two- 
thirds  of  the  route  and  is  being  constantly  ex- 
tended. The  numerous  streams  furnish  a  ready 
supply  of  water,  which  is  elevated  by  hydraulic 
rams  into  the  tanks  at  the  roadside.  There  is 
yet  much  to  be  done  to  put  a  large  part  of  the 
road  into  first-class  condition,  especially  the 
twenty-mile  stretch  from  Thumb  Station  to 
Lake  Hotel,  and  about  fifteen  miles  from  the 
Canyon  to  Norris  Basin.  The  former,  rough, 
hilly  and  often  terribly  dusty,  may  be  avoided  by 
taking  the  lake  steamer,  which  is  to  be  recom- 
mended though  the  extra  fare  is  high  for  the 
distance;  the  latter  road  is  quite  new  and  work 
upon  it  is  still  in  progress,  so  its  early  better- 
ment may  be  looked  for.  It  chances,  fortunate- 
ly, that  these  two  pieces  of  road  are  the  least 
interesting  of  the  entire  route;  one  misses  little 
and  gains  much  in  scenic  beauty  by  taking  the 
lake  boat,  and  as  for  the  trip  from  the  Canyon  to 
Norris,  he  must  endure  as  best  he  may  the  stif- 
ling dust  and  the  jolting  and  pitching  of  the 
coach  into  the  chuck-holes  which  abound.  The 
finest  bit  of  road  in  the  Park  is  the  six  or  seven 
miles  from  Gardiner  to  Mammoth  Hot  Springs, 
quite  as  excellent  as  one  will  find  anywhere,  and 
it  is  to  be  hoped  that  at  some  not  very  distant  day 
the  whole  route  may  equal  this  splendid  little 

5 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

stretch.  Then  the  motor  car  might  come — but 
the  motor  car  has  no  business  in  Yellowstone 
Park.  Taking  it  altogether,  while  the  road 
yet  admits  of  much  improvement,  the  journey 
may  be  accomplished  with  little  fatigue  by  any- 
one who  is  a  fair  traveler,  and  those  who  rather 
enjoy  the  strenuous  life  may  have  just  as  much  of 
"roughing  it"  as  they  elect. 

This  suggests  the  consideration  of  the  vari- 
ous ways  in  which  the  round  of  the  Park  itself 
may  be  made,  and  one  has  the  choice  of  three 
well-established  methods.  He  may  make  the 
round  in  a  minimum  of  six  days  by  the  coaches 
of  either  of  the  two  transportation  companies, 
stopping  at  the  splendid  hotels  for  the  nights ;  if 
fond  of  outdoor  life,  he  may  avail  himself  of  the 
services  of  any  one  of  the  several  camping  com- 
panies, of  which  the  Wylie  Permanent  Camps 
are  best  known ;  or  he  may  go  quite  independent 
of  all  these,  for  camping  outfits  may  be  rented 
at  Livingston,  Gardiner  or  Yellowstone  in 
great  variety,  with  wide  range  in  style  and  price. 
Guides  and  cooks  may  easily  be  secured,  and  the 
tour  made  in  strict  privacy  and  prolonged  to 
suit  the  convenience  of  the  party — for,  of  course, 
such  an  arrangement  is  practicable  only  in  case 
of  a  party  of  several  people.  The  latter  plan 
affords  an  ideal  summer  vacation  and  if  we 

6 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

may  judge  from  the  enthusiasm  of  those  who 
have  adopted  it,  it  is  without  doubt  the  most 
delightful  way  of  doing  the  Yellowstone.  But 
it  would  hardly  be  worth  while  to  go  to  the 
trouble  which  it  entails  for  a  period  of  less  than 
two  or  three  weeks  and  for  that  reason  this 
method  will  never  be  pursued  by  the  great 
majority  of  Park  visitors. 

Perhaps  about  an  equal  number  go  by  the 
hotel  and  the  regular  camping  routes ;  the  former 
is  a  little  more  expensive,  and  appeals  to  the 
traveler  who  dislikes  the  slight  inconveniences 
of  a  canvas  tent  bedroom.  Generally  speaking, 
the  hotels  may  also  be  preferred  by  the  more 
elderly  and  less  vigorous  tourists,  but  the  mo- 
tives will  be  so  diverse  that  generalization  is 
scarcely  possible.  The  permanent  camps  are 
charmingly  located,  often  in  pine  forests  by  lake 
or  river;  they  are  clean,  the  sanitation  is  good, 
and  many  of  the  tents  afford  the  privacy  and 
convenience  of  the  ordinary  hotel  bedroom ;  they 
are  heated  by  small  wood  stoves  in  which  the 
attendants  build  fires  before  the  tourists  rise. 
There  is  more  freedom  and  hilarity  than  in  the 
hotels  and  the  camping  parties  perhaps  enjoy 
themselves  more  thoroughly  than  the  hotel 
guests,  but  this  would  be  natural,  for  they  have 
a  larger  proportion  of  young  people. 

7 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

The  comfort  and  conveniences  of  the  hotels 
have  been  so  carefully  looked  after  that  even  the 
experienced  traveler  will  be  surprised  at  the  ex- 
cellence of  the  service.  These  remote  inns  will 
compare  very  favorably  with  the  best  resort 
hotels  of  the  East,  and  despite  the  disadvan- 
tages they  suffer  by  bringing  their  supplies  so 
far  by  wagon,  the  bill-of-fare  is  excellent  in 
quality  and  variety.  Almost  every  hotel  con- 
venience is  supplied  and  the  more  modern  ot 
the  hotels  have  numerous  rooms  with  bath  in 
connection.  Everything  is  quite  informal  and 
comfortable.  One  may  take  his  ease  at  his  inn, 
as  desired  by  the  Shakespearian  worthy.  The 
notion  that  an  extensive  wardrobe  must  be 
carried  is  a  delusion;  no  one  "dresses  for 
dinner."  I  did  not  see  a  single  "dress  suit"  dur- 
ing my  round  and  I  doubt  if  there  were  any  in 
the  Park.  People  were  just  plain,  everyday 
American  citizens,  our  own  p^rty  comprising 
a  schoolteacher  and  her  friend,  a  country 
banker,  a  circuit  judge  and  his  niece,  an  eastern 
manufacturer  and  his  wife — but  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  extend  the  list;  the  little  given  is  repre- 
sentative enough.  Such  people  are  not  to  be 
hampered  by  any  undue  formality  and  it  is 
hardly  necessary  to  state  that  the  readily 
formed  acquaintances  are  not  the  least  pleasant 

8 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

feature  of  the  tour.  The  regulation  Concord 
coach  of  the  transportation  companies  carries 
eleven  passengers  besides  the  driver,  but  there 
are  many  other  conveyances  carrying  four  or 
more.  Parties  as  far  as  possible  are  made  up  in 
accordance  with  the  wishes  of  the  members,  but 
we  found  it  quite  satisfactory  to  take  our 
chances  in  the  allotment  of  our  party,  and  the 
pleasant  acquaintances  formed  during  the  five 
days'  jaunt  fully  justified  our  course.  And  I  do 
not  doubt  that  had  our  lot  fallen  with  any  other 
coach  the  result  would  have  been  quite  the 
same.  One  doesn't  chance  it  very  much  in  the 
company  of  the  average  Yellowstone  tourist.  We 
thought  ourselves  fortunate  that  our  party  in- 
cluded a  pleasant  old  gentleman — somewhat 
talkative  and  self-opinionated,  it  is  true,  but  an 
old-time  mining  and  railroad  promoter  in  the 
mountains,  possessed  of  a  wide  fund  of  knowl- 
edge of  the  West,  its  fauna,  flora  and  history. 
But  for  him  we  should  often  have  missed  the 
flowers,  shrubbery,  berries,  strange  trees  and 
animals  that  abound  in  the  Park.  At  every 
pause  he  brought  to  our  attention  something  of 
the  kind  he  had  discovered  which  a  less  prac- 
ticed eye  must  have  overlooked.  Besides,  he 
had  a  fund  of  stories  and  a  ready  wit  which  did 
much  to  entertain  the  party. 

9 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

But  I  am  digressing  from  my  topic — the 
Park  hotels — and  one  of  them  is  so  remarkable 
as  to  deserve  extended  mention,  and  an  extended 
stay  if  one's  time  permits.  Its  like  is  hardly  to 
be  found  elsewhere — the  El  Tovar  at  the 
Grand  Canyon  may  resemble,  but  can  hardly 
compare  with  it.  For  the  Old  Faithful  Inn  is 
quite  as  unique  as  the  wonderland  in  which  it 
stands.  It  is  distinctly  a  product  of  the  wilder- 
ness which  surrounds  it.  Its  design  and  con- 
struction is  peculiarly  appropriate  to  its  location 
in  the  heart  of  the  mountains  and  forests  of  the 
Park,  from  which  the  materials  were  drawn. 
Massive,  unhewn  forest  trees,  rough  boulders 
and  undressed  slabs  are  happily  co-ordinated  in 
the  great  structure,  and  everywhere  gnarled, 
twisted  branches — the  strangest  ever  seen — 
have  been  fitted  into  some  appropriate  place, 
forming  supports  for  the  over-hanging  gables, 
the  balconies  and  numerous  dormer  windows. 
The  entrance  hall  is  seventy-five  feet  square  and 
rises  ninety-two  feet  through  the  center  to  the 
rough  timbers  of  the  roof.  In  the  midst  is  the 
immense  stone  chimney,  fourteen  feet  square, 
with  four  great  fireplaces,  each  of  which  can 
take  a  good-sized  log  in  its  capacious  maw,  and 
against  its  front  is  fastened  a  monstrous 
wrought  iron  skeleton  clock,  whose  massive 

10 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

weights  have  a  drop  of  perhaps  thirty  feet.  The 
huge  main  entrance  and  dining-room  doors  are 
of  solid  oaken  planks  studded  with  heavy  bolts 
and  swung  on  great  hand-wrought  iron  hinges. 
On  the  second  and  third  floors  rustic  balconies 
surround  the  entrance  hall,  affording  a  pleasant 
promenade  for  the  guests,  and  the  bare  slabs 
of  the  roof  are  visible  at  the  top.  There  is  a 
fine  veranda  in  front  with  many  cozy  chairs, 
settees  and  rustic  swings,  from  which  one  may 
watch  the  steaming  basin  and  get  a  perfect  view 
of  Old  Faithful  in  action. 

Yet  with  all  this  rusticity,  comfort,  conven- 
ience and  even  elegance  are  everywhere.  The 
polished  hardwood  floors  are  covered  with 
oriental  rugs  and  the  furniture  is  of  mission 
pattern  in  dark  weathered  oak.  The  windows 
are  of  heavy  plate  glass  in  leaded  panes  and  the 
furnishings  of  the  bed-  and  bathrooms  are  of  the 
best.  Yet  the  rustic  idea  is  carefully  main- 
tained; even  in  the  private  rooms  the  walls  are 
of  rough  planks  or  ax-dressed  slabs  and  every- 
thing is  redolent  with  the  fragrance  of  the 
mountain  pine.  Verily,  this  inn  is  a  pleasant 
place,  set  down  as  it  is  in  a  weird,  enchanted 
land.  One  may  leave  its  doors  to  view  the  sur- 
roundings, in  charge  of  the  Swiss  guide,  Joe, 
who  for  a  dozen  or  more  years  has  piloted  the 

11 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

gaping  crowds  of  pilgrims  about  this  seething, 
spouting  geyserland.  And  the  quaint  humor  of 
his  dry  jokes  is  none  the  less  amusing  to  you 
because  he  is  cracking  them  for  the  thousandth 
time. 

Here  is  the  very  center  of  the  active  phe- 
nomena of  the  Park.  Nowhere  else  are  the 
geysers  so  plentiful,  so  varied  or  so  beautiful. 
The  queen  of  them  all  in  beauty,  symmetry  and 
reliability  is  Old  Faithful,  which  very  appropri- 
ately gives  its  name  to  the  inn.  Every  hour, 
day  and  night,  summer  and  winter,  this  great 
white  column  of  water  and  shining  vapor  spouts 
high  into  the  heavens.  There  are  others  larger 
and  which  rise  higher,  but  their  intervals  are 
very  irregular  and  often  of  rare  occurrence,  and 
were  it  not  for  the  rightly  designated  Old  Faith- 
ful, many  tourists  would  go  through  the  Park 
without  seeing  a  really  representative  geyser  in 
action. 

The  region  around  Old  Faithful,  known  as 
Upper  Geyser  Basin,  has  many  attractions  aside 
from  the  geysers  themselves.  One  will  linger 
long  to  admire  the  crystal  river  that  glides 
through  the  valley  like  molten  diamond  over  its 
bed  of  mossy  stones,  and  to  watch  the  schools 
of  mountain  trout  that  dart  hither  and  thither 
through  the  bright  water  quite  regardless  of 

12 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

your  presence.  Then  there  are  Emerald  Pool 
and  Morning-Glory  Spring,  two  of  the  most 
remarkable  natural  phenomena  of  the  Park. 
The  first  is  a  lakelet  of  the  most  delicate  emerald 
green,  its  waters  themselves  as  clear  as  crystal 
but  taking  their  tint  from  the  bottom  of  the 
pool,  giving  a  wonderful  effect  of  purity  and 
transparency.  The  water  is  just  below  the  boil- 
ing temperature,  and  apparently  of  great  depth. 
The  Morning-Glory  Spring,  whose  marked  re- 
semblance in  shape  to  that  flower  gives  it  the 
name,  is  easily  the  most  beautiful  of  the  numer- 
ous hot  springs  of  the  Park.  Its  sides,  following 
the  contour  of  a  giant  morning-glory,  slope 
away  to  a  great  depth,  and  reflect  the  hues  of  a 
thousand  gems  into  the  clear  water  that  fills  the 
spring.  Turquois,  emerald,  jasper,  amethyst, 
amber  and  lapis  lazuli  seem  to  lend  their  multi- 
farious colors  to  the  walls  of  the  spring,  combin- 
ing to  produce  an  effect  indescribably  beautiful. 
And  yet,  much  as  one  may  admire  and  enjoy  all 
this  weird  beauty,  he  is  never  wholly  free  from 
a  sense  of  uneasiness  as  he  walks  over  the  fire- 
fretted  ground  and  feels  beneath  his  tread  a 
certain  uncanny  hollowness,  and  the  tale  the 
guides  often  tell  about  the  breaking  out  of  a 
new  geyser  comes  unpleasantly  to  mind.  For 
at  Norris  Basin  a  short  time  ago  a  terrific  erup- 

13 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

tion  took  place,  resulting  in  the  formation  of  a 
new  geyser.  A  loud  report  was  heard  and 
heavy  stones  were  hurled  hundreds  of  feet — but 
shortly  after  a  party  had  left  the  spot.  A  little 
disquieting,  but,  after  all,  no  one  of  the  hundreds 
of  thousands  who  have  gone  through  Yellow- 
stone Park  has  ever  been  injured  by  such  a 
catastrophe.  Clearly,  there  is  enough  about 
Old  Faithful,  aside  from  the  pleasant  inn  itself, 
to  tempt  anyone  whose  time  permits  to  linger 
much  longer  than  the  few  hours  allowed  by  the 
regular  tour;  but  those  who  must  hasten  on  will 
carry  away  with  them  an  ineffaceable  recollec- 
tion of  the  unique  hotel  and  its  strange  sur- 
roundings. 

Decidedly  more  conventional,  but  quite 
equal  in  appointment  and  comfort  to  Old  Faith- 
ful Inn,  is  the  Lake  Hotel,  some  forty  miles 
farther  on  the  road.  It  was  built  but  a  few 
years  ago,  and  is  styled  the  Colonial  on  account 
of  its  massive  colonnades  fronting  on  the  lake. 
Standing  as  it  does  in  the  edge  of  a  stately  pine 
forest  and  commanding  a  most  picturesque  view 
of  the  lake  and  mountains,  its  situation  is  a 
superb  one.  In  the  woods  near  at  hand  our 
naturalist  friend  found  wild  strawberries  and 
called  our  attention  to  the  tiny  shrubs  loaded 
with  huckleberries.  Here,  too,  a  great  colony 

14 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

of  bears  is  often  seen  and  at  evening  they  con- 
gregate in  a  nearby  open  space  in  the  woods  to 
await  the  hotel  garbage  wagon.  They  are  very 
mild,  harmless  mendicants,  though  at  times  they 
may  show  flashes  of  ill  nature  towards  each 
other.  They  are  always  a  great  attraction  for 
the  hotel  guests,  some  of  whom  are  quite  willing 
to  miss  a  meal  to  watch  the  ungainly  antics  of 
the  brutes.  The  Lake  Hotel  is  in  the  center  of 
the  fishing  district  and  the  devotee  of  the  sport 
will  find  a  veritable  paradise  at  hand.  Even  the 
novice  is  sure  of  a  catch  and  the  skilled  fisher- 
man almost  deprecates  the  eagerness  of  the 
Yellowstone  Lake  trout  to  take  the  bait.  The 
most  favored  fishing  grounds  are  near  the 
outlet  of  the  lake,  though  one  is  sure  of  success 
almost  anywhere.  The  principal  catch  is  lake 
trout,  some  of  which  attain  considerable  size. 
The  tourist  with  several  days  at  his  disposal  in 
the  Park  and  who  prefers  the  convenience  of 
the  hotel  to  camping,  will  no  doubt  give  the 
greater  portion  of  his  time  to  the  Colonial. 

The  Mammoth  Hot  Springs  and  Fountain 
Hotels  are  older  and  hardly  comparable  to  the 
two  I  have  described,  though  the  service  is  much 
the  same.  The  Canyon  Hotel  is  the  poorest  of 
the  five,  and  some  day  there  will  doubtless  be  a 

15 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

new  one  built  more  in  keeping  with  its  magnifi- 
cent surroundings. 


•When  I  penned  the  foregoing  lines  it  hardly 
occurred  to  me  that  my  prophecy  in  regard  to  a 
new  hotel  at  the  canyon  would  be  fulfilled  before 
the  publication  of  this  book.  But  such  has 
proven  the  case.  Early  in  1910  the  construc- 
tion of  a  new  hotel  was  begun,  which  is  quite 
as  distinctive  and  impressive  in  its  way  as  the 
Old  Faithful  Inn  or  the  Lake  Colonial  Hotel. 
The  most  unique  feature  is  the  "lounge/'  one 
hundred  and  seventy-five  feet  by  eighty-four 
feet  in  size,  with  open  timber  roof.  It  projects 
from  the  main  building  towards  the  canyon  and 
a  splendid  view  of  the  great  gorge  may  be  had 
from  the  windows.  It  is  a  matter  of  no  small 
satisfaction  to  know  that  the  canyon  region  at 
last  has  a  hotel  in  every  way  in  keeping  with  the 
magnificent  surroundings,  and  the  new  inn  will 
no  doubt  be  one  of  the  most  popular  stopping 
places  in  the  Park. 


16 


II 

NATURAL  WONDERS  OF  THE  PARK-THE 
GEYSERS  AND  HOT  SPRINGS 

I  am  in  no  sense  attempting  a  guide  book, 
and  shall  make  no  effort  to  follow  the  regulation 
tour  in  sequence.  It  shall  be  my  aim  to  note  but 
a  few  of  the  most  remarkable  phenomena  of  the 
Park  and  to  endeavor  to  record  some  of  the 
impressions  its  weird  beauty  and  magnificence 
made  upon  my  own  mind.  I  cannot  but  feel 
that  anyone  who  does  something,  though  it  be 
but  little,  towards  disseminating  a  wider  know- 
ledge of  this  untrammeled  playground  of  the 
nation,  is  doing  a  commendable  act. 

Doubtless  the  most  distinctive  feature  of 
Yellowstone  Park  is  its  geysers — those  strange, 
boiling,  spouting  springs,  hot,  highly  colored 
pools,  mud  caldrons,  paint  pots,  or  whatever 
form  they  may  take.  In  this  regard  the  region 
is  almost  unique,  for  while  geysers  are  found  in 
Iceland,  they  do  not  compare  with  those  of  the 
Yellowstone  region,  and  are,  moreover,  quite 

17 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

inaccessible  to  the  average  tourist.  Not  only 
is  the  geyser  interesting  as  a  strange  natural 
phenomenon,  but  it  is  often  so  gloriously  beauti- 
ful as  to  make  a  long  journey  to  witness  it  well 
worth  the  while.  And  when  one  finds  such  a 
remarkable  group  in  immediate  connection  with 
many  other  strange  and  delightful  natural 
phenomena  as  in  Yellowstone  Park,  the  combi- 
nation is  indeed  a  rare  one. 

Various  theories  have  been  advanced  to 
account  for  geyser  action,  but  all  have  finally 
been  abandoned  in  favor  of  that  of  Bunsen.  He 
considers  that  the  Yellowstone  region  is  of 
volcanic  origin  and  of  comparatively  recent  date, 
though  it  may  be  millions  of  years  old,  for  that 
matter.  There  are  masses  of  heated  rock  near 
the  surface  and  in  these  are  numerous  fissures 
through  which  the  waters  of  Yellowstone  Lake 
find  their  way.  When  the  steam  thus  generated 
beneath  the  water  rises  to  a  sufficient  pressure 
it  ejects  the  column  above  it,  following  in  dense 
clouds.  The  intervals  vary  according  to  the 
time  required  to  fill  the  tube  and  generate  the 
steam,  and  should  depend  much  on  the  size  and 
shape  of  the  subterranean  cavity.  Where  the 
circulation  of  the  water  is  unhindered,  a  simple 
hot  spring  or  pool  will  result,  and  these  are  more 
numerous  than  the  spouting  geysers.  From  the 

18 


OLD  FAITHFUL  GEYSER,  YELLOWSTONE  PARK 

Courtesy  Northern  Pacific  Railway 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

very  nature  of  geyser  action,  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  under  favorable  conditions  it  may  cease  at 
any  time  or  may  break  out  in  new  places,  as  pre- 
viously related.  In  1888  the  Excelsior  Geyser 
— once  the  greatest  and  most  spectacular  in  the 
Park — ceased  to  act. 

Old  Faithful  may  be  taken  as  typical  of  the 
Yellowstone  geysers — which  I  have  no  inten- 
tion of  cataloguing  and  describing  in  detail.  It 
is  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  the  hotel  and 
may  be  viewed  to  advantage  from  an  easy  chair 
on  the  veranda.  Every  sixty-five  minutes,  with 
but  trifling  variation,  this  great  white  column 
rises  from  one  to  two  hundred  feet  in  the  air, 
with  a  duration  of  four  or  five  minutes.  The 
appearance  is  greatly  varied  by  weather  condi- 
tions and  differs  much  according  to  the  hour  of 
the  day,  thus  presenting  new  beauties  at  almost 
every  eruption.  Sunrise,  sunset,  moonlight, 
wind  and  storm,  all  gild  with  various  hues  or 
sway  the  great  steaming  column  into  a  thousand 
fantastic  forms.  When  the  geyser  is  quiescent 
one  may  approach  the  crater,  an  oblong  opening 
about  two  by  six  feet,  with  a  quiet  pool  of  crys- 
tal clear  water.  Some  say  that  the  deposits 
around  the  crater  indicate  an  age  of  tens  if  not 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  years.  And  bearing 
this  fact  in  mind,  one  will  experience  a  strange 

19 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

sensation  as  he  gazes  on  this  weird  intermittent 
fountain,  justly  considered  one  of  the  gems  of 
the  wonderland.  When  Columbus  discovered 
America  this  great  white  column  at  regular 
intervals  was  playing  and  glittering  in  the 
primal  solitude;  when  Lief  Erickson  landed  it 
was  unspeakably  old,  but  glorious  as  ever;  when 
Christ  was  on  earth  its  strange  beauty  fell  on 
the  eye  of  the  infrequent  savage  who  gazed  on 
it  with  a  superstitious  awe;  long  before  the 
reputed  date  of  the  creation  it  played  and  corus- 
cated in  the  sunlight;  before  man  himself  trod 
the  earth  Old  Faithful,  robed  in  showers  of  dia- 
monds and  the  glories  of  the  rainbow,  rose  and 
fell  with  none  to  see  and  admire.  And  thinking 
of  its  immeasurable  age,  one  is  led  to  hope  that 
for  countless  centuries  to  come  this  beautiful 
natural  phenomenon  may  continue  to  play  to 
the  delight  and  admiration  of  millions  yet 
unborn. 


20 


Ill 

NATURAL  WONDERS  OF  THE  PARK- 
THE  LAKES  AND  RIVERS 

Next  to  geyser  action  in  its  myriad  forms, 
the  rivers  and  lakes  of  the  Yellowstone  will 
delight  the  visitor.  There  are  none  more 
beautiful  in  the  whole  world;  the  pure,  limpid 
waters,  the  swift  green  and  crystal  rapids,  the 
glorious  foam-clad,  rainbow-hued  falls  and  the 
magnificent  setting  of  natural  scenery  are  alto- 
gether unmatched.  The  panorama,  as  one  gazes 
up  the  great  painted  chasm  of  the  canyon  with 
the  green  foam-flecked  Yellowstone  writhing 
through  it,  ending  in  two  of  the  most  glorious 
cataracts  on  earth,  has  altogether  nothing  to 
compare  with  it;  the  canyon  of  the  Colorado  is 
as  brilliant  and  vaster,  but  its  dark,  sand-laden 
river  is  no  match  for  the  emerald  flood  of  the 
Yellowstone.  The  whole  course  of  the  river 
from  Livingston  to  its  source  in  the  lake  is  one 
of  constant  beauty,  which  is  probably  at  its 
height  about  the  last  of  June,  when  the  floods 

21 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

of  the  melting  snows  swell  the  stream.  For 
twenty  miles  after  leaving  the  lake  the  water 
lies  in  broad  lazy  reaches,  as  though  it  were 
resting  for  the  awful  turmoil  before  it,  and  its 
banks  are  beautifully  diversified  with  open 
glades  and  majestic  trees.  One  might  float 
unhindered  from  the  lake  to  the  canyon  with 
little  to  prepare  him  for  the  tremendous  leap 
that  the  river  makes  to  the  bottom  of  the  great 
many-colored  gorge  that  awaits  it.  A  sheer  fall 
of  three  hundred  and  sixty  feet  is  quickly  fol- 
lowed by  a  second  more  than  half  as  high,  after 
which  the  vexed  stream  bounds  madly  onward 
between  the  variegated  walls  on  either  hand, 
and  from  thence  until  it  joins  the  Missouri  it  has 
little  of  rest  or  quiet. 

The  Firehole  River,  which  the  road  follows 
for  many  miles,  is  picturesque,  though  it  lacks 
the  stupendous  scenery  of  the  Yellowstone.  It 
is  swift,  crystal  clear,  and  in  places  of  consid- 
erable volume.  It  flows  westward  from  the 
continental  divide  and  its  waters  finally  merge 
into  those  of  the  Columbia.  Along  its  shores 
are  many  delightful  camping  sites,  and  the  river 
runs  directly  through  the  group  of  geysers  at 
Upper  Basin.  In  fact,  at  this  point  the  tempera^ 
ture  is  noticeably  raised  by  the  volume  of  water 

poured  into  it  from  the  geysers  and  hot  springs 

22 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

along  its  course.  Immediately  on  its  bank  near 
the  picturesque  bridge  where  the  road  crosses  is 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the  geysers  in  the 
Upper  Basin  group — the  Riverside,  which  dis- 
charges its  waters  at  an  angle  of  about  forty-five 
degrees,  the  only  one  that  varies  much  from  the 
vertical. 

There  are  many  minor  streams,  all  of  which 
exhibit  much  the  same  characteristics.  The 
road  follows  the  Gibbon  River  some  miles, 
crossing  it  several  times.  It  rather  lacks  the 
beauty  of  its  sister  streams,  though  many  of  its 
falls  and  cascades  form  pretty  bits  of  scenery. 

But  the  glory  of  the  Park  is  Yellowstone 
Lake,  a  splendid  sheet  of  pure  water  covering 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  square  miles.  It 
lies  7,741  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  girt 
by  majestic  mountains  and  usually  reflecting  a 
serene,  cloudless  sky.  The  waters  are  light- 
green  in  color  tone  and  are  permeated  by 
myriads  of  tiny  crystal  bubbles  that  rise  from 
the  multitude  of  hot  springs  which  flow  into  the 
bottom  of  the  lake.  We  were  so  fortunate  as 
to  secure  seats  in  the  b9w  of  the  launch  that 
takes  one  from  Thumb  Station  to  Lake  Hotel, 
and  from  this  point  of  vantage  an  entrancing 
view  presented  itself.  Coming  out  into  the 
main  body  of  the  lake,  we  sailed  toward  the 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

great  Absaroka  Range,  which  flings  its  fanciful 
peaks  high  into  the  northeastern  heavens,  on 
that  day  intensely  blue  with  an  occasional  snowy 
cloud  drifting  lazily  along.  It  takes  a  stretch 
of  imagination,  perhaps,  to  see  the  Sleeping 
Giant  or  Cathedral  Spires  among  the  stern 
shapes  that  lie  silhouetted  against  the  horizon, 
but  with  a  little  aid  from  the  mariner  at  the 
wheel  you  descry  them  and  the  resemblance 
grows  as  you  glide  toward  them.  Still  farther 
to  the  right  lies  the  lofty  Sheridan  Range,  with 
patches  of  snow  still  flecking  the  forest-clad 
slopes.  Whichever  way  one  turns  he  is  con- 
fronted by  a  panorama  of  dancing  sunlit  water 
stretching  away  to  pine-clad  shores  and  distant 
mountain  peaks. 

Soon  there  looms  up  against  a  background 
of  somber  pines,  the  long  yellow  facade  of  the 
Lake  Hotel  with  its  massive  overhanging  gables 
upheld  by  great  Corinthian  pillars.  We  find  it 
a  very  pleasant  inn,  its  spacious  lobby  rich  in 
mahogany  and  the  polished  floors  strewn  with 
oriental  rugs.  It  fronts  directly  on  the  lake  and 
a  long  row  of  comfortable  chairs  invites  us  to 
enjoy  the  splendid  prospect  at  our  ease.  And 
indeed,  so  soon  as  his  name  is  on  the  register, 
one  hastens  to  the  ample  terrace  in  front  of  the 
hotel,  where  he  may  sit  and  silently  admire  the 

24 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

glorious  sheet  of  water  that  stretches  away 
toward  the  mountain  ranges  beyond  —  their 
summits  glowing  in  the  declining  sun. 

I  doubt  if  there  is  a  finer  bit  of  water  on 
this  mundane  sphere.  We  have  seen  the  Scotch, 
Swiss,  Italian  and  Adirondack  lakes,  but  all  of 
them  lack  something  of  the  indefinable  charm 
and  weird  beauty  of  Yellowstone  Lake  on  such 
an  evening  as  this.  Perhaps  its  very  loneliness 
and  remoteness  lend  not  a  little  to  the  sentiment 
that  overmasters  one.  What  a  fit  setting  this 
virgin  wilderness,  far  from  the  hum  of  cities  and 
sacred  from  the  huntsman's  gun,  forms  for  it! 
The  pelican,  winging  his  way  directly  over  the 
rowboats,  unscared,  and  a  flock  of  wild  ducks 
floating  yonder  within  a  stone's  throw  from 
where  you  sit,  give  you  a  sense  of  strangeness. 
Elsewhere  one  may  not  find  these  shy  wild  things 
so  careless  of  man's  presence — and  what  tells 
them  they  are  safe? 

But  the  evening  advances;  the  lengthening 
shadows  sweep  over  the  bright  waters  which 
glow  mysteriously  beneath  the  opalescent  skies. 
Momentarily  the  colors  change;  amber — ame- 
thyst— sapphire — seem  to  prevail  in  turn;  then 
the  glow  fades  from  the  rippling  surface,  which 
becomes  a  deep  steel-blue  mirror  for  the  moun- 
tains and  stars.  But  we  are  indeed  favored 

25 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

tonight — a  copper-colored  moon  is  peeping  over 
the  eastern  peaks;  it  gains  in  radiance  as  it 
ascends  the  heavens  and  flings  a  long  streak  of 
fire  across  the  dancing  wavelets.  The  whole 
scene  is  transformed  as  by  enchantment;  the 
mountains  become  weird  pyramids  and  towers, 
vast,  ill-defined  and  unreal;  the  somber  pines 
hide  unimaginable  mysteries;  every  nook  and 
cranny  of  the  sinuous  shore  line  is  peopled  with 
ghostly  habitants;  one  becomes  oblivious  of  the 
inn  and  his  fellow-beings  and  imagines  himself 
the  first  human  being  who  has  ever  beheld  the 
entrancing  scene.  He  beholds  Yellowstone 
Lake,  virginal,  undiscovered,  alone — in  the  heart 
of  an  unknown  wonderland. 

But  I  awaken  to  the  fact  that  I  am  quite 
alone  in  my  contemplation  of  the  glories  of  the 
sunset  and  moonrise  on  the  lake;  except  for  a 
few  stragglers  the  guests  have  disappeared.  A 
dozen  or  more  bears  in  the  grove  to  the  rear  of 
the  hotel  have  proven  a  greater  drawing  card 
than  the  scene  which  inspires  my  ecstacies — and 
I  may  as  well  plead  guilty  myself  to  giving  a 
good  part  of  the  evening  to  watching  the  antics 
of  these  uncouth  denizens  of  the  Park. 

There  are  other  fine  lakes  in  the  vicinity, 
though  much  smaller  and  not  on  the  regular 
route  of  travel.  Shoshone,  Lewis  and  Heart 

26 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

Lakes  are  of  considerable  size — like  perfect 
gems  set  in  the  encircling  hills.  From  Teton 
Point  the  tourist  gets  a  fine  view  of  Shoshone 
Lake.  It  is  about  seven  miles  long  and  from 
one  to  three  in  width.  Its  shores  are  most 
picturesque  and  a  rather  rough  road  leads 
around  it  from  Upper  Basin,  passing  through  a 
group  of  geysers  at  the  western  end  of  the  lake. 

The  drive  from  Lake  Hotel  to  the  canyon 
takes  one  through  as  peaceful  and  quiet  a  bit  of 
landscape  as  may  be  found  in  the  Park.  The 
weird  mud  volcano,  some  fifty  feet  in  diameter, 
a  great  seething  caldron  of  boiling  mud,  uncanny 
and  malodorous,  is  the  only  notable  evidence  of 
geyser  action  in  the  twenty  miles;  there  are  no 
startling  phenomena  aside  from  this  along  the 
way.  Just  a  splendid  road  with  easy  grades 
leading  through  a  wide  grassy  valley  along  a 
tranquil  shining  river  resting  in  broad  quiet 
reaches  and  giving  no  hint  of  the  awful  fury  just 
beyond.  From  our  seat  beside  the  driver — it 
was  our  turn  to  occupy  this  coveted  position — 
we  had  a  splendid  view  of  river  and  valley  and 
the  grass-covered  hillocks  brought  sharply  to 
mind  bits  of  country  we  had  seen  in  the  Scotch 
Highlands. 

But  one's  interest  in  this  quiet  valley  is 
quite  overshadowed  by  his  eager  anticipation  of 

27 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

the  wonders  soon  to  come.  We  have  read  so 
much,  heard  so  much,  and  have  seen  such  mar- 
velous photographs  and  pictures  of  the  Canyon 
and  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone  that  expectation 
is  roused  to  the  highest  pitch.  We  wonder  if 
we  shall  be  disappointed;  whether  the  reality 
will  be  less  than  the  word-painting  of  Kipling 
and  the  canvas  of  Thomas  Moran.  Is  the 
canyon  such  a  marvel  of  color  as  they  tell  us, 
and  are  the  river  and  its  falls  so  overwhelming 
in  grandeur  and  beauty  as  descriptions  have 
made  them?  It  is  with  eager  anticipation  that 
we  await  the  testimony  of  our  own  eyes  con- 
cerning the  marvels  of  Yellowstone  Canyon. 


28 


IV 

NATURAL  WONDERS  OF  THE  PARK-THE 

CANYON,  MT.  WASHBURN  AND 

TOWER  FALLS 

The  old  Canyon  Hotel,  standing  on  an 
eminence  overlooking  the  valley,  was  rather  the 
shabbiest  and  least  satisfactory  of  the  quintet. 
Perhaps  the  builders  of  the  hotel  considered 
that  the  exhilarating  glories  of  the  scenery  were 
sufficient  to  atone  for  any  lack  of  bodily  com- 
fort. The  old  building,  however,  has  been 
replaced  since  our  visit  in  1909  by  the  palatial 
structure  already  alluded  to,  which  is  said  to 
even  surpass  the  Lake  Hotel  in  size  and  appoint- 
ment. But  I  would  not  intimate  that  the  old 
Canyon  Hotel  was  uncomfortable;  perhaps  it 
suffered  rather  in  the  minds  of  those  who  had 
just  sojourned  at  the  Lake  Hotel  and  Old  Faith- 
ful Inn.  We  arrived  in  time  for  luncheon  and 
though  we  craned  our  necks  for  a  sight  of  the 
canyon,  we  had  no  more  than  fugitive  glimpses 
of  the  river  through  the  trees. 

29 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

We  realized  later  that  we  were  fortunate  in 
not  seeing  the  canyon  piecemeal;  the  view  from 
Inspiration  Point  is  far  more  impressive  and 
overwhelming  in  its  grandeur  coming  as  it  does 
when  one  is  quite  unprepared  for  it.  A  three- 
mile  walk  or  drive  from  the  hotel  through 
thickly  standing  pine  trees  takes  one  to  this 
famous  viewpoint.  A  substantial  platform  sur- 
rounded by  a  rustic  balustrade  extends  over  the 
edge  of  the  canyon  and  affords  the  vision  a  full 
sweep  up  and  down  the  vast  chasm. 

A  long  silence  ensues  as  we  contemplate 
the  panorama  before  us.  Words  are  indeed 
idle;  photographs  are  misleading;  the  master- 
piece of  the  artist  is  inadequate.  These  may 
give  some  idea  of  the  contour  of  the  canyon  and 
some  hint  of  its  coloring,  but  the  awful  distances, 
the  overpowering  vastness,  dawn  upon  one  only 
when  his  own  eyes  look  upon  the  scene.  It  is 
this  that  quite  overwhelms  the  beholder,  who  as 
a  rule  has  little  to  say  the  first  few  minutes  when 
the  canyon  in  its  full  splendor  bursts  on  his 
vision.  There  it  lies  before  him,  resplendent  in 
every  color  of  the  spectrum,  a  vast  rent  in  the 
mountains  one-third  of  a  mile  deep,  and  at  its 
bottom,  too  far  away  to  be  heard,  dashes  the 
vexed  river  a  hundred  feet  wide,  they  tell  us,  but 
seemingly  a  mere  writhing  thread  of  emerald. 

30 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

The  falls  in  the  distance  seem  dazzling  columns 
of  snowy  whiteness,  edged  with  rainbows  and 
half  hidden  at  times  in  white  mist.  The  prevail- 
ing hue  of  the  canyon  walls  is  pale  yellow,  but 
there  are  many  dashes  of  warmer  coloring,  from 
soft  browns  and  pinks  to  blood  red.  The  sides 
are  fretted  into  a  thousand  fanciful  architectural 
shapes  —  spires  and  turrets  and  battlemented 
walls  and  in  places  the  eroded  rocks  have  an 
odd  semblance  to  a  ruined  church  or  castle. 
The  canyon  is  quite  devoid  of  vegetation, 
though  here  and  there  stately  pine  trees  have 
fastened  themselves  in  inaccessible  places  on  its 
walls. 

Anxious  to  see  every  phase  of  its  beauty 
possible  in  our  limited  time,  we  drive  to  Artist's 
Point  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  This  is 
the  spot  from  which  Moran  painted  his  great 
picture  now  hanging  in  the  National  Capitol. 
One  has  here  a  much  nearer  view  of  the  falls, 
both  Upper  and  Lower,  and  may  gain  some 
idea  of  the  tremendous  plunge  of  the  latter, 
though  if  one  is  hardy  enough  for  the  climb,  the 
foot  of  the  falls  is  the  place  to  appreciate  most 
their  real  power  and  grandeur,  if  not  their 
beauty. 

But  it  is  folly  for  me  to  essay  a  description 
for  which  far  abler  pens  have  been  inadequate. 

31 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

Better  leave  the  reader  with  the  masterly 
pictures  of  Mr.  Moran,  which  tell  the  story  as 
nearly  as  it  may  be  told  by  aught  save  a  personal 
visit  to  the  canyon.  If  these  pictures  or  any- 
thing I  have  said  should  prove  sufficient  to 
interest  others  in  this  truly  representative 
American  wonderland,  it  will  be  enough. 

The  time  will  come,  no  doubt,  when  the 
standard  route  of  travel  through  the  Park  will 
be  changed,  and  instead  of  returning  to  Norris 
Basin  from  the  canyon  and  doubling  back  to 
Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  the  tourist  will  proceed 
over  the  Mount  Washburn  road  to  Tower  Falls 
— due  north — and  from  thence  to  Fort  Yellow- 
stone. It  may  require  a  day  longer,  but  it  will 
be  a  day  well  spent,  for  the  view  from  Mount 
Washburn  is  another  of  the  marvels  of  the 
Park.  Unfortunately,  a  rainy  day  interfered 
with  our  plans;  the  mountain  was  enveloped  in 
low-hung  clouds,  making  a  trip  to  the  summit 
quite  useless.  I  will  therefore  borrow  the  lan- 
guage of  one  who  is  a  sort  of  tutelar  spirit  of 
our  Western  wilds  and  whose  vast  lore  and  keen 
appreciation  is  set  forth  in  language  of  befitting 
beauty — Mr.  John  Muir,  the  gentle  naturalist 
whose  all-embracing  love  of  nature  even  extends 
to  the  despised  rattlesnake.  In  his  book  "Our 

32 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

National  Parks"  he  thus  describes  the  view  from 
Mount  Washburn: 

"Perhaps  you  have  already  said  that  you 
have  seen  enough  for  a  lifetime.  But  before 
you  go  away  you  should  spend  at  least  one  day 
and  a  night  on  a  mountain  top,  for  a  last  general, 
calming,  settling  view.  Mount  Washburn  is  a 
good  one  for  the  purpose,  because  it  stands  in 
the  middle  of  the  park,  is  unencumbered  with 
other  peaks,  and  is  so  easy  of  access  that  the 
climb  to  its  summit  is  only  a  saunter.  First 
your  eye  goes  roving  around  the  mountain  rim 
amid  the  hundreds  of  peaks:  some  with  plain 
flowing  skirts,  others  abruptly  precipitous  and 
defended  by  sheer  battlemented  escarpments; 
flat-topped  or  round;  heaving  like  sea- waves  or 
spired  and  turreted  like  Gothic  cathedrals; 
streaked  with  snow  in  the  ravines,  and  darkened 
with  files  of  adventurous  trees  climbing  the 
ridges.  The  nearer  peaks  are  perchance  clad 
in  sapphire  blue,  others  far  off  in  creamy  white. 
In  the  broad  glare  of  the  noon  they  seem  to 
shrink  and  crouch  to  less  than  half  their  real 
stature  and  grow  dull  and  uncommunicative — 
mere  dead,  draggled  heaps  of  waste  ashes  and 
stone,  giving  no  hint  of  the  multitude  of  animals 
enjoying  life  in  their  fastnesses,  or  of  the  bright 
bloom-bordered  streams  and  lakes.  But  when 

33 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

storms  blow  they  awake  and  arise,  wearing 
robes  of  cloud  and  mist  in  majestic  speaking 
attitudes  like  gods.  In  the  color  glory  of  morn- 
ing and  evening  they  become  still  more  impres- 
sive ;  steeped  in  the  divine  light  of  the  alpenglow 
their  earthiness  disappears,  and  blending  with 
the  heavens,  they  seem  neither  high  nor  low. 

"Over  all  the  central  plateau,  which  from 
here  seems  level,  and  over  the  foothills  and 
lower  slopes  of  the  mountains,  the  forest 
extends  like  a  black  uniform  bed  of  weeds, 
interrupted  only  by  lakes  and  meadows  and 
small  burned  spots  called  parks —  all  of  them, 
except  the  Yellowstone  Lake,  being  mere  dots 
and  spangles  in  general  views,  made  conspicuous 
by  their  color  and  brightness 

"A  few  columns  and  puffs  of  steam  are  seen 
rising  from  the  treetops,  some  near,  but  most  of 
them  far  off,  indicating  geysers  and  hot  springs, 
gentle-looking  and  noiseless  as  downy  clouds, 
softly  hinting  the  reaction  going  on  between  the 
surface  and  the  hot  interior.  From  here  you 
see  them  better  than  when  you  are  standing 
beside  them,  frightened  and  confused,  regarding 
them  as  lawless  cataclysms.  The  shocks  and 
outbursts  of  earthquakes,  volcanoes,  geysers, 
storms,  the  pounding  of  waves,  the  uprush  of 

84 


GREAT  FALLS,  FROM  BELOW,  YELLOWSTONE  PARK 

Courtesy  Northern  Pacific  Railway 


THE   YELLOWSTONE 

sap  in  plants,  each  and  all  tell  the  orderly  love- 
beats  of  Nature's  heart. 

"Turning  to  the  eastward,  you  have  the 
canyon  and  reaches  of  the  river  in  full  view;  and 
yonder  to  the  southward  lies  the  great  lake,  the 
largest  and  most  important  of  all  the  high  foun- 
tains of  the  Missouri-Mississippi,  and  the  last  to 
be  discovered 

"Yonder  is  Amethyst  Mountain,  and  other 
mountains  hardly  less  rich  in  old  forests,  which 
now  seem  to  spring  up  again  in  their  glory ;  and 
you  see  the  storms  that  buried  them — the  ashes 
and  torrents  laden  with  boulders  and  mud,  the 
centuries  of  sunshine,  and  the  dark,  lurid  nights. 
You  see  again  the  vast  floods  of  lava,  red-hot  and 
white-hot,  pouring  out  from  gigantic  geysers, 
usurping  the  basins  of  lakes  and  streams, 
absorbing  or  driving  away  their  hissing,  scream- 
ing waters,  flowing  around  hills  and  ridges, 
submerging  every  subordinate  feature.  Then 
you  see  the  snow  and  glaciers  taking  possession 
of  the  land,  making  new  landscapes.  How 
admirable  it  is  that,  after  passing  through  so 
many  vicissitudes  of  frost  and  fire  and  flood,  the 
physiognomy  and  even  the  complexion  of  the 
landscape  should  still  be  so  divinely  fine 

"The  sun  is  setting;  long,  violet  shadows  are 
growing  out  over  the  woods  from  the  mountains 

35 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

along  the  western  rim  of  the  Park,  the  Absaroka 
Range  is  baptized  in  the  divine  light  of  the 
alpenglow,  and  its  rocks  and  trees  are  trans- 
figured. Next  to  the  light  of  the  dawn  on  high 
mountain  tops,  the  alpenglow  is  the  most  im- 
pressive of  all  the  terrestrial  manifestations  of 
God. 

"Now  comes  the  gloaming.  The  alpenglow 
is  fading  into  earthy  murky  gloom,  but  do  not 
let  your  town  habits  draw  you  away  to  the 
hotel.  Stay  on  this  good  fire-mountain  and 
spend  the  night  among  the  stars.  Watch  their 
glorious  bloom  until  the  dawn,  and  get  one  more 
baptism  of  light.  Then,  with  fresh  heart,  go 
down  to  your  work  and  whatever  your  fate, 
under  whatever  ignorance  or  knowledge  you 
may  afterward  chance  to  suffer,  you  will  remem- 
ber these  fine,  wild  views,  and  look  back  with 
joy  to  your  wanderings  in  the  blessed  old  Yel- 
lowstone Wonderland." 

Tower  Fall  is  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
canyon  and  is  one  of  the  most  charming  of  the 
cataracts  of  the  Yellowstone.  It  plunges  some 
seventy-five  feet  sheer  downwards,  while  high 
above  it  rise  the  spirelike  pinnacles  which  give 
the  name  to  the  fall.  The  words  of  the  discov- 
erer, penned  some  thirty  years  ago,  should 
forever  be  associated  with  the  entrancing  scene 

36 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

which  he  so  vividly  and  gracefully  describes: 
"Nothing  can  be  more  chastely  beautiful 
than  this  lovely  cascade,  hidden  away  in  the  dim 
light  of  overshadowing  rocks  and  woods,  its 
very  voice  hushed  to  a  low  murmur,  unheard  at 
the  distance  of  a  few  hundred  yards.  Thou- 
sands might  pass  by  within  half  a  mile  and  not 
dream  of  its  existence;  but  once  seen,  it  passes 
to  the  list  of  most  pleasant  memories." 

There  is  no  spot  in  the  Park  more  delight- 
fully located  for  the  lover  of  nature  who  desires 
to  camp  under  the  open  skies  in  the  midst  of  the 
loveliest  and  most  inspiring  surroundings. 
Far  off  the  beaten  path  of  the  tourist  and  the 
goal  of  only  the  infrequent  visitor,  it  offers 
opportunity  for  complete  severance  from  the 
busy  world  and  for  undisturbed  rest  and  recrea- 
tion. The  walls  of  the  canyon  here  are  of 
columnar  basalt,  a  formation  similar  to  the 
Giant's  Causeway  in  Ireland,  rising  to  a  height 
of  eight  hundred  feet  or  more  in  such  regularity 
as  to  seem  almost  the  work  of  man. 

The  road  from  Tower  Fall  to  Mammoth 
Hot  Springs  is  mainly  through  a  rather  uninter- 
esting tract,  being  in  good  part  a  treeless 
meadow  where  thousands  of  elk  pasture  in 
winter  time.  This  road  will  not  compare  with 
the  main  traveled  roads  of  the  Park,  but  we  may 

37 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

hope  that  some  day  a  fine  hotel  may  be  built 
near  Tower  Fall  and  the  main  route  of  travel 
take  this  direction. 

Among  the  more  interesting  phenomena 
are  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs  near  Fort  Yel- 
lowstone. The  waters,  issuing  from  the  earth 
just  below  the  boiling  point  and  heavily  charged 
with  mineral  deposits,  have  in  long  course  of 
time  built  up  strange,  beautifully  colored  ter- 
races, many  of  them  of  great  extent.  In  the 
main  these  are  of  snowy  whiteness,  giving  the 
semblance  of  sculptured  marble,  but  others  are 
of  variegated  coloring,  in  which  pink  and  orange 
seem  to  predominate..  This  is  due  to  a  small 
vegetable  growth — not  to  mineral  pigments,  as 
might  be  supposed  —  and  the  color  vanishes 
when  the  spring  becomes  extinct.  Some  of  the 
springs  take  the  form  of  pools  several  hundred 
feet  in  diameter,  and  the  water  is  of  remarkable 
transparency,  despite  the  heavy  solution  of 
minerals  it  carries.  Of  this  Dr.  Hayden  said: 

"The  wonderful  transparency  of  the  water 
surpasses  anything  of  the  kind  I  have  ever  seen 
in  any  other  portion  of  the  world.  The  sky, 
with  the  smallest  cloud  that  flits  across  it,  is 
reflected  in  its  clear  depths,  and  the  ultra-marine 
colors,  more  vivid  than  the  sea,  are  greatly 
heightened  by  constant,  gentle  vibrations.  One 

38 


THE   YELLOWSTONE 

can  look  down  into  the  clear  depths  and  see, 
with  perfect  distinctness,  the  minutest  orna- 
ment on  the  inner  sides  of  the  basin;  and  the 
exquisite  beauty  of  the  coloring  and  the  variety 
of  forms  baffle  any  attempt  to  portray  them 
either  with  pen  or  pencil/' 

But  a  few  miles  from  Mammoth  Hot 
Springs,  the  road  passes  through  the  famous 
Golden  Gate  over  a  concrete  causeway  lately 
constructed  by  the  Government.  This  clings  to 
the  almost  perpendicular  side  of  the  cliff,  a 
splendid  cement  road  protected  by  substantial 
balustrades  and  supported  upon  massive  rounded 
arches.  The  view  from  either  entrance  of  the 
canyon  is  a  beautiful  one,  and  the  yellow  lichen 
covering  the  rocks  has  given  the  pass  its  name — 
Golden  Gate.  On  one  side  of  the  road  giant 
cliffs  stretch  their  stern  outlines  up  into  the 
heavens  and  far  below  on  the  opposite  side 
dashes  the  clear  mountain  stream.  There  is  one 
uncanny  feature — at  times  masses  of  rock  be- 
come detached  from  the  cliffs  and  hurl  them- 
selves on  the  road.  A  huge  piece  had  recently 
been  broken  from  the  cement  balustrade  in  this 
manner.  Just  beyond  the  Golden  Gate  towards 
Mammoth  Hot  Springs  are  the  irregular  rocks 
styled  the  Koodoos — though  the  reason  for  this 
name  is  hardly  apparent.  These  huge  blocks  of 

39 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

limestone — many  of  them  as  large  as  a  good- 
sized  house — are  thrown  promiscuously  about, 
lying  in  every  conceivable  position.  The  whole 
region  is  uncanny;  what  cataclysm  tumbled 
these  huge  stones  in  wild  confusion,  apparently 
with  as  little  effort  as  though  they  were  a  child's 
marbles?  One  theory  is  that  at  some  distant 
time  the  river  eroded  vast  caves  beneath  the 
mountain,  which  collapsed  in  these  unwieldy 
blocks  of  stone. 

To  me,  the  most  inspiring  view  along  the 
regular  route  of  the  tour  is  the  far-reaching 
scene  from  Shoshone  Point.  Leaving  the  hos- 
pitable doors  of  Old  Faithful  Inn,  we  began  a 
steady  climb  of  perhaps  ten  miles,  winding  our 
tedious  course  through  the  continuous  forest  of 
pine  trees  that  covers  the  mountain  slopes.  We 
are  crossing  the  continental  divide  and  note  on 
the  milestones  the  steadily  increasing  altitude. 
Twice  we  cross  the  line  of  the  divide,  which 
sweeps  northward  here  in  a  great  loop ;  midway, 
on  the  very  crest,  our  driver  pauses  and  pointing 
with  his  whip  laconically  remarks,  "The  Tetons." 
We  are  altogether  unprepared  for  the  panorama 
that  bursts  on  our  vision  and  may  well  hold  our 
breath  in  surprise  and  delighted  astonishment. 
Right  below  us,  like  a  great  diamond,  lies  Sho- 
shone Lake,  rippling  and  glittering  in  the  sun- 

40 


THE   YELLOWSTONE 

shine,  its  brilliancy  enchanced  by  the  dense  green 
of  the  pines  that  encircle  it,  while  far  away, 
shrouded  in  the  soft  blue  haze  of  distance,  rise 
the  blue  and  purple  peaks  of  the  Tetons,  the 
giants  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Range.  Between 
lies  a  wide  stretch  of  pine-clad  mountains,  with 
here  and  there  a  glint  of  lake  and  river.  The 
day  is  perfect,  cloudless  and  serene,  and  it  is 
distance  alone  that  lends  the  soft  atmospheric 
tone  to  the  snow-capped  summits  some  fifty 
miles  away.  One  may  catch  other  glimpses  of 
these  majestic  peaks  from  different  points  along 
the  road — always  inspiring,  always  beautiful 
and  grand,  but  nowhere  else  is  there  such  a 
splendid  foreground  to  complete  the  picture  as 
at  Shoshone  Point. 

But  one  may  well  despair  of  enumerating 
even  a  fraction  of  the  marvelous  scenes  and 
phenomena  that  abound  in  the  Yellowstone. 
Such  a  catalogue  would  of  itself  fill  a  volume. 
The  sketches  I  have  drawn  are  only  typical  and 
are  at  best  but  dim  reflections  of  the  reality. 
Much  will  depend  on  the  weather,  but  fortu- 
nately, the  average  weather  in  the  Park  is  fine 
and  the  showers  and  dull  skies  usually  transi- 
tory. And  in  this  connection  I  might  remark 
that  cool,  crisp  days  and  rather  sharp  nights 
predominate,  a  condition  for  which  the  tourist 

41 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

should  adequately  provide,  iespecially  early  in 
the  season.  Yellowstone  Lake  is  seldom  free 
from  ice  until  the  middle  of  June  and  in  some 
seasons  much  later.  The  heavy  snows  are  often 
long  in  disappearing.  The  days  in  August  and 
September  are  often  fairly  warm,  though  never 
oppressive,  and  one  will  find  this  a  very  enjoy- 
able time  to  visit  the  Park.  There  will  be  fewer 
wild  flowers  and  less  water  in  the  streams,  but 
the  crowds  will  be  smaller  and  the  mosquitoes 
and  gnats,  often  very  annoying  earlier  in  the 
season,  will  have  disappeared. 


42 


V 
THE  FAUNA  AND  FLORA  OF  THE  PARK 

The  wild  animals  are  by  no  means  the  least 
interesting  feature  of  the  Park — though  many 
of  them  are  hardly  wild  in  the  accepted  sense. 
Long  immunity  from  the  rifle  of  the  huntsman 
has  left  the  denizen  of  this  enchanted  land 
almost  free  from  fear  of  man,  and  they  more 
often  resemble  our  domestic  animals  in  their 
habits  and  actions.  There  are  bears,  buffaloes, 
elk,  deer,  antelopes,  mountain  sheep,  many  fur 
bearers — including  several  colonies  of  beavers — 
and  numerous  smaller  animals,  among  which 
several  varieties  of  squirrel  are  oftenest  seen. 
The  tourist  by  the  ordinary  route  will  see  only  a 
few  of  these  native  inhabitants  of  the  Park;  the 
elk  and  deer  keep  to  the  mountains  during  the 
daytime  and  only  stragglers  are  seen.  In  the 
woods  near  Mammoth  Hot  Springs  we  came 
upon  a  large  deer  which  eyed  us  curiously  with 
little  signs  of  fear,  though  we  came  within  a 
dozen  yards  of  it.  The  buffaloes  here,  some 

43 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

dozen  in  number,  are  a  daily  sight;  for  the 
soldiers  drive  them  into  a  large  corral  a  mile 
from  the  hotel  and  the  animals  behave  much  as 
domestic  cattle.  The  beaver  is  always  shy,  but 
we  saw  one  or  two  of  them  at  Beaver  Lake  near 
the  Obsidian  Cliff.  The  industrious  little 
brutes  have  dammed  the  creek  here  until  it 
forms  a  considerable  lake  remarkable  for  the 
indigo-blue  color  of  its  waters.  There  are 
several  other  colonies  in  the  Park,  though  not 
on  the  regular  route  of  travel.  Wolves  and 
mountain  lions,  once  fairly  common,  have  been 
nearly  exterminated  by  the  guards.  Squirrels 
and  chipmunks  one  will  see  by  the  hundreds, 
often  perched  on  a  log,  chattering  saucily  at  the 
coach  as  it  passes. 

Birds  are  principally  migratory,  since  the 
eggs  of  few  species  hatch  at  the  altitude  of  the 
Park.  Pelicans  abound  on  the  lake,  having 
appropriated  an  island  to  their  own  use,  and 
numbers  of  these  huge  birds  flying  low  over  the 
water  often  afford  a  picturesque  sight.  They 
are  quite  fearless  and  sometimes  make  little 
effort  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  the  boats.  But, 
strangest  of  all,  the  timidity  of  the  wild  ducks 
vanishes  in  the  Park — they  seem  to  realize  they 
are  safe  here  and  one  will  often  see  a  flock  feed- 
ing fearlessly  within  a  stone's  throw.  Even  the 

44 


THE   YELLOWSTONE 

Canada  duck,  said  to  be  the  most  timorous  of  all, 
shows  the  same  sense  of  security  in  this  favored 
spot.  Eagles  are  to  be  seen  but  rarely,  though 
one  for  years  has  nested  on  Eagle  Cliff,  a  high 
rocky  pinnacle  on  the  road  near  Gardiner. 

But  of  all  the  living  things  of  the  Park,  the 
bears  are  seen  oftenest  and  create  the  greatest 
interest  among  the  tourists.  Bruin  has  quite 
lost  his  savage  traits  and  is  sometimes  entirely 
too  familiar  with  campers.  He  will  loot  a  camp 
in  daytime  when  the  owners  are  away  and  often 
prowl  around  by  night  in  an  unpleasant  manner. 
A  friend  told  me  of  being  roused  by  a  noise  in 
his  tent  one  night  and  on  striking  a  match  found 
a  •  large  bear  nosing  round,  but  the  intruder 
speedily  departed  when  discovered.  The  bears 
are  a  never-failing  source  of  attraction  at  the 
hotels,  especially  at  Old  Faithful  and  Lake  and 
a  dozen  or  more  are  Often  seen  at  the  garbage 
dumping  ground,  where  their  antics  amuse 
spectators  of  all  ages. 

Reptiles  are  very  rare,  though  rattlesnakes 
have  been  found  in  the  lower  altitudes,  and 
harmless  lizards  are  numerous. 

Of  all  things  Yellowstone  Park  is  the  fish- 
erman's paradise.  Here  the  disciple  of  Ike 
Walton  is  hampered  with  no  license  or  restric- 
tion save  that  he  must  confine  himself  to  hook 

45 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

and  line.  Yellowstone  Lake  and  many  of  the 
streams  literally  swarm  with  trout  which  were 
"planted"  by  the  United  States  Fish  Commission 
a  few  years  ago.  Rainbow  and  Loch  Leven 
trout — the  latter  from  the  famous  Scotch  lake 
and  of  unequalled  excellence — are  common  in 
certain  localities,  and  native  mountain  trout 
abound  in  the  lakes  and  most  of  the  streams. 
The  most  famous  fishing  ground  is  at  the  outlet 
of  Yellowstone  Lake,  and  even  the  unskilled 
amateur  is  certain  of  success  here.  The  regular 
tourist,  who  has  but  half  a  day  at  this  point, 
often  employs  it  in  fishing.  Of  late  years  a 
large  proportion  of  the  fish  taken  is  found  to  be 
worthless  on  account  of  a  parasite  which  has 
attacked  them,  especially  in  Yellowstone  Lake. 
The  number  of  fish  here  is  so  vast  that  the  food 
is  insufficient,  making  them  especially  suscep- 
tible to  the  ravages  of  the  parasite.  Even  if  one 
does  not  greatly  care  to  fish,  he  will  be  delighted 
to  watch  the  schools  of  trout  as  they  dart  about 
in  the  clear  streams,  giving  the  touch  of  anima- 
tion that  always  adds  to  the  interest  of  natural 
scenery. 

The  forests  of  the  Yellowstone  are  not 
comparable  to  those  of  the  Yosemite,  and  really 
fine  individual  trees  are  rare.  In  places  the 
pines  grow  almost  as  thickly  as  they  can  stand, 

46 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

springing  up  over  myriads  of  fallen  trunks — no 
doubt  victims  of  fire  and  storm.  A  large  part  of 
the  mountains  is  devoid  of  trees  of  any  kind, 
and  many  comparatively  level  tracts  like 
Hayden  Valley  are  also  quite  treeless.  Perhaps 
two-thirds  of  the  Park  is  well  wooded.  Various 
shrubs — the  gooseberry,  currant,  chokeberry, 
buffalo-berry — abound  and  wild  fruits  and 
flowers  in  great  variety  are  to  be  found.  The 
flowers  are  especially  numerous  in  season 
and  are  surprisingly  hardy  considering  the  fact 
that  there  are  few  nights  in  the  year  without 
frost.  The  rarer  and  more  beautiful  varieties 
are  found  in  the  higher  elevations  and  one  of 
the  delights  of  ascending  the  mountains  is  the 
beauty  and  fragrance  of  the  flowers  that  deck 
their  slopes. 


47 


VI 
THE  HISTORY  AND  TRADITIONS  OF  THE  PARK 

When  one  has  finished  the  round  of  the 
Park,  he  will  likely  find  himself  curious  to  know 
the  story  of  the  discovery  and  setting  aside  of 
this  wonderland  as  a  pleasure-ground  for  any 
who  may  care  to  come.  It  is  refreshing  to  find 
an  instance  where  the  National  Government 
acted  with  great  promptness,  and  wisely  as  well, 
and  has  been  fairly  consistent  in  carrying  out  its 
original  plans.  It  was  within  two  or  three 
years  after  reliable  surveys  had  been  made  and 
really  authentic  descriptions  of  the  marvelous 
country  given  to  the  world  that  the  act  of 
Congress,  setting  aside  the  region  as  a  National 
Park  "for  the  benefit  and  enjoyment  of  the 
people,"  was  passed.  No  time  was  lost  in  which 
to  give  jobbers  and  speculators  a  chance  to  get 
in  their  work;  perhaps  the  region  was  then 
considered  of  little  value.  In  any  event,  it  was 
set  aside  so  soon  after  its  discovery  as  to  insure 
that  its  virgin  state  would  be  preserved — that 

48 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

even  the  railroad  would  be  excluded  and  no  town 
could  be  founded  within  its  limits. 

It  would  seem  that  the  Indian  tribes  in  this 
vicinity — the  Blackfeet,  Crows  and  others — 
knew  little  of  the  country  within  the  present 
bounds  of  the  Park  before  the  advent  of  the 
white  man.  There  is  good  evidence  that 
scattering  tribes  of  red  men  had  been  in  the 
region  from  time  to  time,  but  the  number  must 
have  been  few  and  their  visits  infrequent. 
Doane,  who  surveyed  the  locality  in  1870, 
ascribes  the  absence  of  the  Indians  to  "super- 
stitious fears."  He  saw  a  few  Sheep-eaters  and 
Snake-Indians — corresponding  quite  closely  in 
degradation  to  the  Digger  Indians — in  the 
present  limits  of  the  Park,  but  said  that  the 
larger  tribes  never  entered  the  basin.  There  is 
some  dispute  about  this,  but  it  is  easy  to  con- 
ceive that  such  an  array  of  mysterious  phenom- 
ena could  not  fail  to  excite  the  superstition  of 
savages,  who  would  naturally  attribute  the 
strange  manifestations  to  infernal  powers. 

The  earliest  reference  to  the  region  is  in 
the  stories  of  John  Colter,  a  member  of  the 
Lewis  and  Clark  Expedition  of  1806.  As  the 
expedition  returned  to  St.  Louis,  this  man  at 
his  own  request  was  released  to  engage  in 
trapping  beavers  in  the  vicinity  of  what  is  now 

49 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

the  Park.  He  joined  a  party  of  trappers  and 
being  a  resourceful  man  with  some  knowledge 
of  Indian  habits  and  language,  was  sent  out 
with  a  companion  to  gain  the  good  will  of  sev- 
eral of  the  tribes.  His  adventures  were 
astounding,  though  apparently  authentic,  and 
again  illustrate  the  wonderful  endurance  and 
vitality  of  the  old-time  Western  trapper.  In 
the  course  of  his  wanderings  his  companion  was 
killed  and  he  himself  captured  by  the  Blackfeet 
Indians,  then  intensely  hostile  to  the  whites.  A 
council  was  at  once  held  by  the  savages,  three 
hundred  or  more  in  number,  to  decide  how  their 
unfortunate  captive  should  be  disposed  of,  and 
the  plan  of  binding  him  to  a  tree  to  serve  as  a 
target  for  their  arrows  seemed  about  to  prevail 
when  the  chief  interfered.  He  ordered  that 
Colter  be  stripped  of  his  clothes  and  given  a 
chance  to  run  for  his  life.  Doubtless  the  old 
savage  thought  merely  to  have  a  little  diversion ; 
it  is  hardly  possible  he  believed  that  under  such 
conditions  his  prisoner  could  outrun  and  finally 
escape  from  several  hundred  fleet-footed  war- 
riors. It  chanced,  however,  that  Colter  was  a 
famous  runner  and  distanced  all  his  pursuers 
save  one,  upon  whom  he  suddenly  turned, 
killing  the  savage  with  his  own  weapon,  which 
the  desperate  scout  wrested  from  him.  Plunging 

50 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

into  the  river  near  at  hand,  Colter  hid  until 
nightfall  under  a  pile  of  drift-wood  and  under 
cover  of  darkness  swam  down  the  stream, 
eluding  his  pursuers.  Then  for  seven  days  he 
wandered  stark  naked  under  the  burning  sun, 
his  feet  bruised  by  stones  and  torn  by  the 
prickly  pear,  when  by  strange  chance  he  reached 
the  trappers'  fort  from  which  he  started  out  some 
months  before.  Such  a  story  seems  quite  in- 
credible, but  it  is  well  authenticated. 

But  while  his  companions  and  the  people 
generally  seemed  willing  enough  to  accept 
Colter's  almost  incredible  story  of  his  escape, 
they  laughed  at  his  tales  of  a  wonderful  country 
he  had  visited  in  his  wanderings — a  land  of 
steaming  pools,  springs  of  boiling  water  that  at 
intervals  shot  hundreds  of  feet  in  the  air,  of 
seething  caldrons  of  pitch  and  strange  lakes  and 
rivers.  All  this  was  treated  with  derision  and 
classed  with  the  tales  of  Gulliver  and  Munchau- 
sen.  "Colter's  Hell"  was  the  title  the  wise  ones 
gave  to  the  region  of  the  trapper's  stories.  But 
we  know  now  that  it  was  truthful  enough  and 
the  first  intimation  the  world  received  of  the 
Yellowstone  wonderland. 

Nearly  half  a  century  elapsed  after  the 
thrilling  experience  of  John  Colter  before 
authentic  facts  were  published  concerning  the 

51 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

region  he  tried  to  describe.  Legends  and 
rumors  more  or  less  fantastic  were  afloat  con- 
cerning the  strange  region,  but  it  was  not  until 
1869  that  a  well-equipped  prospecting  party 
undertook  to  explore  the  head  waters  of  the 
Yellowstone.  This  was  a  purely  private  enter- 
prise and  was  undertaken  by  a  party  of  three 
explorers  with  the  definite  purpose  of  ascer- 
taining the  true  nature  of  the  country  about 
which  so  many  strange  stories  had  been  told. 
These  three  men,  "armed  with  repeating  rifles, 
Colt's  six-shooters  and  sheath-knives,  with  a 
double-barreled  shot-gun  for  small  game;  and 
equipped  with  a  good  field-glass,  pocket-compass 
and  thermometer,  and  utensils  and  provisions 
for  a  six  weeks'  trip,  set  out  from  Diamond 
City  on  the  Missouri  River,  forty  miles  from 
Helena,  September  6,  1869. 

"The  route  lay  up  against  the  Missouri  to 
the  Three  Forks;  thence  via  Bozeman  and  Fort 
Ellis  to  the  Yellowstone  River;  and  thence  up 
the  Yellowstone  to  its  junction  with  the  East 
Fork  inside  the  present  limits  of  the  Park. 
From  this  point  they  crossed  to  the  east  bank 
and  followed  up  the  river,  passing  through  the 
many  groups  of  hot  springs  to  be  found  east  of 
the  canyon.  On  September  21st,  they  arrived 
at  the  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone,  where  they 

52 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

remained  an  entire  day.  Some  distance  above 
the  rapids  they  re-crossed  to  the  west  shore  and 
then  ascended  the  river  past  Sulphur  Mountain 
and  Mud  Volcano  to  Yellowstone  Lake.  They 
then  went  to  the  extreme  west  shore  of  the 
lake  and  spent  some  time  examining  the  sur- 
passingly beautiful  springs  at  that  point. 
Thence  they  crossed  the  mountains  to  Shoshone 
Lake,  which  they  took  to  be  the  head  of  Madison, 
and  from  that  point  struck  out  to  the  northwest 
over  a  toilsome  country  until  they  reached  the 
Lower  Geyser  Basin  near  Nez  Perce  Creek. 
Here  they  saw  the  Fountain  Geyser  in  action 
and  the  many  other  phenomena  in  that  locality. 
They  ascended  the  Firehole  River  to  Excelsior 
Geyser  and  Prismatic  Lake,  and  then  turned 
down  the  river  on  their  way  home." 

Thirty-six  days  were  consumed  on  the  expe- 
dition and  the  party  witnessed  a  large  number 
of  the  marvels  of  the  Park,  which  so  astonished 
them  that  "on  their  return  they  were  unwilling 
to  risk  their  reputation  for  veracity"  by  a  full 
recital  of  the  wonders  they  had  seen.  However, 
their  experience  had  a  strong  influence  in  the 
formation  of  a  larger  semi-official  expedition 
that  explored  the  country  the  following  winter 
—1870. 

This  expedition  left  Helena,  Montana,  in 

53 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

August  and  consisted  of  nine  persons — many 
more  who  originally  intended  to  accompany  it 
being  deterred  on  account  of  serious  Indian 
disturbances  that  arose  about  the  time  set  for 
departure.  The  expedition  was  under  the 
direction  of  General  Washburn,  Surveyor-Gen- 
eral of  Montana,  and  its  personnel  was  of 
unusually  high  order.  A  small  military  escort 
under  Lieutenant  Doane  joined  the  party  at 
Fort  Ellis  and  the  expedition  entered  the  present 
territory  of  the  Park  on  August  26th,  following 
the  course  of  the  Yellowstone  River.  Accord- 
ing to  their  own  statement,  the  members  of  the 
expedition  were  profoundly  sceptical  of  the 
wonders  they  were  about  to  see,  especially  as  to 
the  boiling  springs  and  geysers.  Tower  Fall 
first  excited  their  astonishment,  but  was  speedily 
forgotten  in  the  wonder  and  amazement  that 
the  canyon  and  Lower  Falls  aroused.  From 
Mount  Washburn  they  viewed  the  great 
panorama  before  them  and  all  doubt  as  to  the 
remarkable  characteristics  of  the  region  vanished 
at  once.  Before  leaving,  this  party  witnessed 
most  of  the  phenomena  now  on  the  regular  tour 
of  the  Park,  among  these  Mammoth  Hot 
Springs,  Yellowstone  Lake,  and  the  Upper  and 
Lower  Basins.  On  emerging  from  the  forest 
into  the  field  of  geyser  activity  now  styled 

54 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

Upper  Basin,  they  were  delighted  to  behold  the 
first  exhibition  of  Old  Faithful  ever  witnessed 
by  white  men.  The  overjoyed  wanderers  could 
scarce  believe  their  eyes  as  they  beheld  the 
steaming  column  rising  before  them,  glorious 
in  the  crisp  air  of  a  clear  September  day.  The 
era  of  myth  and  fable  was  past  and  the  truth 
about  the  great  American  wonderland  was  to  be 
given  to  the  world  at  last. 

A  most  remarkable  incident  of  the  expedi- 
tion was  the  experience  of  Mr.  Evarts,  who 
became  separated  from  the  party  and  nearly  lost 
his  life  in  the  weird  country  he  had  helped  to 
discover.  For  thirty-seven  days  he  wandered — 
mainly  in  circles,  it  seems — and  when  nearly 
exhausted  he  was  rescued  by  a  party  of 
trappers.  Being  wholly  without  weapons,  his 
food  consisted  of  thistle  roots,  which  he  boiled 
in  the  springs.  His  difficulties  were  much 
increased  by  his  extreme  near-sightedness, 
which  greatly  hindered  him  in  securing  food  and 
water.  His  companions  on  missing  him 
searched  for  him  a  week  and  then  gave  him  up 
as  lost. 

The  official  expedition  the  following  year 
added  but  little  to  the  knowledge  of  the  wonders 
of  the  Park,  but  made  some  very  important  sur- 
veys and  collected  a  vast  amount  of  accurate 

55 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

data  concerning  the  region.  Many  photographs 
were  taken  which  greatly  assisted  in  dissemin- 
ating knowledge  of  the  newly  discovered 
wonderland. 

The  idea  of  setting  the  region  aside  as  a 
National  Park  appears  to  have  occurred  to  sev- 
eral minds  at  once.  It  was  so  manifestly  the 
correct  thing  to  do  that  this  can  hardly  be  con- 
sidered strange.  It  was  indeed  fortunate  that 
the  idea  was  so  promptly  acted  upon  before 
private  parties  had  taken  up  the  land  or  in  any 
way  interfered  with  the  formations  or  phenom- 
ena. The  bill  was  introduced  in  Congress  early 
in  1872  and  met  with  little  opposition,  becoming 
a  law  when  signed  by  the  President  March  1st 
following. 

The  exact  wording  of  the  act  itself — unusu- 
ally short  and  to  the  point — may  serve  as  a 
fitting  close  to  our  rather  hasty  sketch: 

"THE  ACT  OF  DEDICATION" 

"AN  ACT  to  set  apart  a  certain  tract  of 
land  lying  near  the  headwaters  of  the  Yellow- 
stone River  as  a  public  park. 

"Sec.  1.  Be  it  enacted  by  the  Senate  and 
House  of  Representatives  of  the  United  States 
of  America  in  Congress  assembled,  That  the 
tract  of  land  in  the  Territories  of  Montana  and 

56 


THE  YELLOWSTONE 

Wyoming  lying  near  the  headwaters  of  the 
Yellowstone  River  and  described  as  follows, 
to-wit:  Commencing  at  the  junction  of  Gardi- 
ner's River  with  the  Yellowstone  River  and 
running  east  to  the  meridian,  passing  ten  miles 
to  the  eastward  of  the  most  eastern  point  of 
Yellowstone  Lake;  thence  south  along  the  said 
meridian  to  the  parallel  of  latitude,  passing  ten 
miles  south  of  the  most  southern  point  of  Yel- 
lowstone Lake;  thence  west  along  said  parallel 
to  the  meridian,  passing  fifteen  miles  west  of  the 
most  western  point  of  Madison  Lake;  thence 
north  along  said  meridian  to  the  latitude  of  the 
junction  of  the  Yellowstone  and  Gardiner's 
Rivers ;  thence  east  to  the  place  of  beginning,  is 
hereby  reserved  and  withdrawn  from  settle- 
ment, occupancy,  or  sale  under  the  laws  of  the 
United  States,  and  dedicated  and  set  apart  as  a 
public  park  or  pleasuring  ground  for  the  benefit 
and  enjoyment  of  the  people;  and  all  persons 
who  shall  locate,  or  settle  upon,  or  occupy  the 
same  or  any  part  thereof,  except  as  hereinafter 
provided,  shall  be  considered  trespassers  and 
removed  therefrom. 

"Sec.  2.  That  said  public  park  shall  be 
under  the  exclusive  control  of  the  Secretary  of 
the  Interior,  whose  duty  it  shall  be,  as  soon  as 
practicable,  to  make  and  publish  such  rules  and 

57 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

regulations  as  he  may  deem  necessary  or  proper 
for  the  care  and  management  of  the  same.  Such 
regulations  shall  provide  for  the  preservation 
from  injury  or  spoliation  of  all  timber,  mineral 
deposits,  natural  curiosities  or  wonders  within 
said  Park,  and  their  retention  in  their  natural 
condition. 

"The  Secretary  may,  in  his  discretion,  grant 
leases  for  building  purposes,  for  terms  not 
exceeding  ten  years,  of  small  parcels  of  ground, 
at  such  places  in  said  Park  as  shall  require  the 
erection  of  buildings  for  the  accommodation  of 
visitors;  all  of  the  proceeds  of  said  leases,  and 
all  other  revenue  that  may  be  derived  from  any 
source  connected  with  said  Park,  to  be  expended 
under  his  direction  in  the  management  of  the 
same  and  the  construction  of  roads  and  bridle- 
paths, and  shall  provide  against  the  wanton 
destruction  of  the  fish  and  game  found  within 
said  Park  and  against  their  capture  or  destruc- 
tion for  the  purpose  of  merchandise  or  profit. 
He  shall  also  cause  all  persons  trespassing  upon 
the  same  after  the  passage  of  this  act  to  be 
removed  therefrom,  and  generally  shall  be 
authorized  to  take  all  such  measures  as  shall  be 
necessary  or  proper  to  fully  carry  out  the  objects 
and  purposes  of  this  act." 


58 


CASCADE  FALLS,  YOSEMITE  PARK 
From  the  Original  Painting  by  Thomas  Moran,  N.  A. 


The  Yosemite 

i 

THE  VALLEY  AND  THE  MOUNTAINS 

If,  as  is  probable,  strangeness  and  almost 
unearthly  weirdness  impressed  you  most  in  the 
Yellowstone,  the  all-predominating  characteris- 
tic of  the  Yosemite,  which  is  likely  to  prove  as 
striking,  is  beauty.  True,  there  is  grandeur  in 
its  mountain  peaks  and  walls  and  there  is  a 
suggestion  of  awful  power  in  its  torrents  that 
sweep  unhindered  over  stupendous  cliffs,  but 
none  the  less  it  is  beauty  that  makes  the  pre- 
dominant impression  on  the  beholder.  Here  is 
a  world  elysian  in  this  peaceful  valley  with  its 
marvelous  Mirror  Lake,  its  green  and  crystal 
river,  its  sparkling  brooks,  its  forests  of  un- 
matched majesty  and  its  riot  of  wild  flowers, 
shut  in  by  towering  mountains  which  fling  their 
fretted  spires  and  sullen  ramparts  against  a 
heaven  as  blue  as  that  of  Italy  itself.  If  the 
Yellowstone,  with  its  sulphur  mountains,  its 
boiling  springs  and  steaming  vales,  may  be  com- 

59 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

pared  to  an  inferno,  surely  we  have  the  antithesis 
in  this  lovely  vale  whose  fittest  semblance  is 
Paradise.  Here  indeed  we  may  find  a  realiza- 
tion of  Tennyson's 

"Fantastic  beauty  such  as  lurks 

In  some  wild  poet  when  he  works 
Without  a  conscience  or  an  aim." 

In  color,  in  contour,  in  beauty,  in  grandeur, 
in  all  that  goes  to  make  a  natural  landscape 
enchanting  and  impressive,  Yosemite  surely 
excels. 

It  is  easy  of  access  now,  since  the  advent  of 
the  railway  up  the  Merced  River  Canyon  to  El 
Portal,  not  very  far  from  the  official  entrance 
of  the  Park.  One  may  take  a  Pullman  car  at 
San  Francisco  or  Los  Angeles  at  midnight  and 
at  daybreak  find  himself  gliding  along  the  banks 
of  the  river  in  the  mountain  pass  that  leads  to 
the  valley.  El  Portal  station  is  reached  quite 
early  in  the  morning.  Here  a  new  hotel, 
located  well  up  the  mountainside,  affords  oppor- 
tunity for  breakfast  and  it  is  also  the  starting 
point  for  the  coaches  that  take  you  into  the 
valley.  Very  different  indeed  from  the  situa- 
tion four  or  five  years  ago,  when  a  coach  ride  of 
seventy-five  miles  was  necessary  to  reach  the 
point  where  the  train  now  stops.  At  that  time 
perhaps  quite  as  many  came  to  Yosemite  by  the 

60 


THE  YOSEMITE 

way  of  Raymond  on  the  south,  visiting  the 
great  trees  enroute,  as  from  Merced,  but  in 
either  case  the  distance  by  coach  was  about  the 
same,  and  while  every  mile  of  the  road  is  replete 
with  interest  and  beauty,  not  a  few  people  were 
deterred  by  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of 
coaching  over  mountain  roads.  To  this  was 
added  the  round  of  the  valley  by  coach  and  trail, 
forty  miles  or  more,  depending  upon  how  thor- 
oughly the  tourist  might  wish  to  explore  the 
Park. 

And  the  Yosemite  roads  are  not  to  be 
compared  with  those  of  the  Yellowstone.  In 
fact,  they  average  little  better  than  mountain 
trails,  usually  too  narrow  for  vehicles  to  pass 
each  other,  very  steep  in  places,  distressingly 
stony  and  rough,  and  in  dry  weather  covered 
several  inches  deep  with  an  impalpable  white 
dust  that  rolls  in  suffocating  clouds  from  the 
wheels.  If  one  is  content  to  visit  Yosemite 
Valley  only,  he  can  now  do  so  and  drive  no  more 
than  twenty-five  to  fifty  miles  by  coach,  supple- 
mented, of  course,  by  mule-back  trail  trips  to  his 
liking.  And  this  is  as  far  as  many  go — as  far 
as  I  myself  thought  to  go,  in  fact.  But  fortu- 
nately, wiser  counsel  prevailed  and  by  extending 
our  time  two  days  longer  we  visited  the  Mari- 
posa  Grove  of  big  trees.  This  required  a 

61 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

coaching  trip  of  some  eighty  miles — every  mile 
rough  and  dusty,  but  it  is,  withal,  an  experience 
the  memory  of  which  we  would  not  willingly 
part  with.  And  had  our  time  been  a  day  or  two 
longer  we  might  have  employed  it  pleasantly 
and  avoided  much  of  the  fatigue  caused  by  our 
too  hurried  trip. 

The  coach  which  is  to  take  us  into  the  Park 
is  waiting  in  front  of  the  hotel.  It  is  a  four- 
horse,  ten-passenger  affair  quite  similar  to  those 
used  in  the  Yellowstone.  Both  are  modifica- 
tions of  and  probably  improvements  upon  the 
old-time  stagecoach  of  the  mountains,  though 
of  course  the  latter  had  greater  provision  for 
mail  and  baggage.  The  Yosemite  coaches  have 
no  covering,  but  this  is  hardly  necessary  in  a 
country  where  rain  is  light  and  infrequent 
during  the  tourist  season.  The  bodies  are 
swung  on  leather  thorough-brace  springs  and, 
if  the  trip  be  not  too  long,  are  fairly  comfortable 
to  ride  in.  However,  the  condition  of  the  Yose- 
mite roads  is  such  that  no  vehicle  of  whatever 
description  could  be  expected  to  roll  smoothly 
over  them. 

Almost  a  mile  from  the  hotel  we  enter  the 
official  confines  of  the  Park,  but  we  proceed  a 
half  dozen  miles  farther  ere  we  come  in  sight  of 
the  mountain-girdled  vale  whose  beauty  we  are 

62 


'  - 

_  - 

•—  _£ 

5  .; 


m>3 

_ 
Q 


THE  YOSEMITE 

about  to  explore.  The  scenery  between  El 
Portal  and  the  valley  is  thoroughly  picturesque. 
We  follow  a  narrow  canyon  between  moun- 
tainous hills,  and  towering  cliffs  often  rise  above 
the  road,  alongside  which  the  Merced  River 
courses,  now  in  swift  cascades,  now  lying  in 
quiet  pools  beneath  overhanging  trees,  and 
again  fleeting  past  in  angry  rapids;  here  the 
water  is  clear  as  crystal,  there  emerald  green, 
but  always  delightful  in  its  variations  of  color 
and  light.  It  is  a  steady,  up-hill  climb  to  the 
entrance  of  the  valley.  The  road  is  uneven  and 
deep  with  dust,  and  the  heavy  coach  severely 
taxes  the  four  spanking  horses,  which  are 
allowed  frequent  breathing  spells;  we  pause  to 
give  them  water  from  the  river  and  to  drink, 
ourselves,  from  the  same  crystal  flood.  We 
have  been  long  on  the  road ;  it  seems  we  must  be 
nearing  our  goal.  But  the  driver  dashes  our 
hopes;  we  have  come  only  four  miles,  one-third 
of  the  distance  to  our  destination.  The  weather 
is  unusually  warm  for  the  Yosemite,  where  the 
rule  is  bright  crisp  days  and  sharp,  if  not  frosty 
nights,  and  the  heat  with  the  dust  clouds  is 
anything  but  conducive  to  comfort.  Despite 
the  beauty  of  the  scenery  along  the  river,  we 
find  ourselves  growing  restive  and  eagerly 
looking  forward  to  the  journey's  end. 

63 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

But  our  discomforts  are  all  forgotten  in  an 
instant.  Through  a  sudden  opening  in  the 
pines  a  vast  wall  of  dazzling  whiteness  flings 
itself  in  bold  relief  against  the  intense  azure  of 
the  sky — it  is  El  Capitan,  rising  sheer  almost  a 
mile  from  the  floor  of  the  valley  and  dwarfing 
the  giant  pines  that  crowd  about  its  foot.  A 
little  farther,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley, 
Bridal  Veil  Fall,  now  shrunken  to  a  silvery 
ribbon,  drops  its  tenuous  thread  from  a  cliff  a 
thousand  feet  above  us.  Then  wonders  begin  to 
crowd  upon  us  from  every  direction.  Cathedral 
Rocks — vast  sculptured  twin  spires,  one  of  them 
rising  sheer  and  solitary  for  seven  hundred  feet 
— pierce  the  skies  twenty-six  hundred  feet  above 
us,  seemingly  laughing  to  scorn  the  efforts  of 
any  mortal  architect.  Standing  side  by  side 
they  have  resemblance  —  perhaps  somewhat 
fancied — to  the  splendid  facade  of  the  Duomo  of 
Florence.  Then  the  Three  Brothers  greet  our 
vision,  and  just  above  us  we  behold  El  Capitan 
from  an  even  more  impressive  viewpoint. 
Yonder  is  Sentinel  Rock,  thrusting  its  rugged 
spire  high  in  the  heavens,  and  we  see  through 
the  pines  the  effect  of  Mr.  Moran's  masterly 
picture,  save  that  the  rock  looms  bald  and 
glaring  in  the  noonday  sun — not  tinged  with 
the  purple  evening  shadows  of  the  artist's  more 

64 


EL  CAPITAN,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 
Courtesy  Southern  Pacific  Railway 


THE  YOSEMITE 

poetic  rendering.  Behind  it  is  Sentinel  Dome, 
one  of  the  strange  spherical  glacier-scarped 
peaks  of  which  we  are  to  see  several  before  we 
leave  the  valley. 

Ere  we  have  recovered  from  our  astonish- 
ment and  while  still  quite  overwhelmed  with  the 
display  of  wonders  on  every  hand,  we  arrive 
at  the  end  of  our  first  day's  journey.  The  coach 
leaves  some  of  its  passengers  at  the  camps,  but 
several  go  on  to  the  old-fashioned  Sentinel 
Hotel  that  for  forty  years  has  afforded  shelter 
and  good  cheer  to  Yosemite  travelers. 

It  is  a  rambling  wooden  structure  situated 
in  the  pleasantest  spot  in  the  valley.  Its  veran- 
das to  the  rear  overhang  the  clear  waters  of  the 
river  and  a  school  of  trout  often  flits  about 
beneath  your  eye — too  well  fed,  however,  to  be 
easily  tempted  by  hook  and  line.  About  three- 
quarters  of  a  mile  distant  there  is  a  full  view 
of  Yosemite  Fall,  the  highest  cataract  in  the 
world,  which  has  a  sheer  drop  of  sixteen  hun- 
dred feet  from  the  edge  of  the  cliff  over  which 
it  pours  and  a  total  descent  of  twenty-six  hun- 
dred feet  to  the  floor  of  the  valley.  It  is  sadly 
shrunken  now,  but  in  the  height  of  its  glory  in 
May  or  June  a  raging  torrent  thirty-five  feet 
wide,  breaking  almost  to  white  foam  ere  it 
reaches  the  bottom,  fills  the  valley  with  its 

65 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

thunder  and  the  beholder  with  awe.  It  stands, 
a  column  of  dazzling  white,  often  edged  with 
rainbows,  in  glorious  relief  against  its  back- 
ground of  red  and  yellow  granite,  and  dis- 
appears among  the  somber  pines  at  its  foot. 


66 


II 

UP  GLACIER  POINT  TRAIL 

We  reached  the  hotel  shortly  before  noon 
and  had  the  remainder  of  the  day  to  enjoy  the 
beauty  of  the  surroundings  and  to  rest  in  antici- 
pation of  the  strenuous  work  we  had  in  view 
for  the  morrow.  For  we  were  easily  persuaded 
to  extend  our  time  another  day  to  take  the  trail 
to  Glacier  Point  and  from  thence  to  Wawona — 
thirteen  miles  by  mule  and  twenty-six  more  by 
coach.  It  is  a  trip  that  should  occupy  two  days 
if  one  has  the  leisure — but  if  not,  better  endure 
a  little  fatigue  than  miss  it.  The  trail  trip  will 
give  at  least  one  experience  in  mountain  climb- 
ing, but  there  is  no  end  of  opportunity  in  this 
direction  in  the  Yosemite,  ranging  from  com- 
paratively easy  trails  upon  which  one  need  not 
dismount,  to  the  hardest  possible  work  on  foot. 
Some  years  ago  an  enterprising  Scotchman  by 
the  name  of  Anderson  scaled  the  shining  sides 
of  Half  Dome,  climbing  a  thousand  feet  of 
perpendicular  wall  by  means  of  a  rope  ladder 

67 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

fastened  to  pegs  which  he  drove  into  the  rock. 
This  was  used  by  other  adventurers,  but  finally 
decayed  so  as  to  become  dangerous  and  its  use 
was  forbidden,  and  for  many  years  no  human 
being  has  set  foot  on  the  summit  of  Half  Dome. 
Sentinel  Rock,  too,  seemingly  inaccessible  as  it 
is,  has  been  scaled  several  times — once  by  a 
woman.  The  ascent  is  difficult  and  dangerous, 
since  the  peak  rises  sheer  for  a  distance  of  fifteen 
hundred  feet.  The  ascent  of  El  Capitan  is  not 
so  arduous,  though  it  is  usually  undertaken 
only  by  the  more  venturesome.  Clouds  Rest, 
however,  which  overtops  everything  else  in  the 
vicinity  and  from  which  one  may  look  down 
even  on  Half  Dome,  may  be  ascended  without 
great  danger,  though  not  without  fatigue.  The 
round  trip  from  Sentinel  Hotel  comprises  about 
twenty-five  miles  and  must  be  made  on  mule- 
back.  A  clear  day  must  be  selected,  since  not 
infrequently  the  clouds  that  hover  about  the 
summit — well  named  Clouds  Rest — will  shut 
out  the  view.  Cumulus  clouds  of  dazzling 
whiteness  are  common  in  the  Yosemite  heavens 
and  present  a  scene  of  unmatched  brilliancy  as 
they  roll  along  just  over  the  peaks  and  lie 
sharply  against  the  deep  blue  skies.  "Cloud 
towers  by  ghostly  masons  wrought/'  they  add 
much  of  beauty  and  weirdness  to  the  more  sub- 

68 


MIRROR  LAKE,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 
Courtesy  Santa  Fe  Railway 


THE  YOSEMITE 

stantial  forms  of  the  guardians  of  the  valley. 

It  is  likely  that  more  than  one  or  two  of 
these  excursions  will  be  out  of  question  with  the 
casual  tourist,  and  if  he  is  to  select  but  one,  that 
to  Glacier  Point  by  the  way  of  Vernal  and 
Nevada  Falls  is  generally  chosen.  The  distance 
is  about  thirteen  miles  and  the  trip  is  not  dif- 
ficult as  mountain  trails  average,  though  one 
will  climb  many  steep  ascents  and  ride  on  the 
edge  of  many  yawning  precipices — but  no  dan- 
ger need  be  apprehended,  since  the  mules  are  so 
wonderfully  sure-footed  and  cautious  that  acci- 
dents never  occur. 

We  are  early  away  next  morning,  since  we 
are  to  visit  Mirror  Lake  before  starting  on  the 
trail — indeed  to  have  conformed  to  the  best 
traditions  we  should  have  come  here  at  day- 
break; for  the  sunrise  effect  on  the  still  little 
tarn  is  famed  as  a  scene  of  surpassing  beauty. 
But  Mirror  Lake  is  worth  seeing  at  any  time, 
though  it  is  scarcely  more  than  a  mountain  pool. 
It  is  surrounded  by  towering  trees  and  these, 
with  every  rock  and  fallen  trunk,  are  reflected 
with  marvelous  fidelity  in  the  dark  and  some- 
what sinister-looking  water.  We  view  it  from 
every  angle  and  the  ubiquitous  photographer 
insists  on  a  "snapshot"  of  the  party  before  we 
proceed  on  our  journey. 

69 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

Our  party  was  a  small  one — some  half  dozen 
besides  our  guide — two  Belgian  counts  who  were 
just  completing  a  tour  of  the  world,  a  globe- 
trotting Englishman  and  a  very  fussy  old  lady 
of  the  propagandist  class  being  among  the  num- 
ber. The  latter  rode  directly  behind  me  and 
sorely  tried  the  good  nature  of  our  guide  by 
constant  nagging  and  especially  by  taking  him 
to  task  for  smoking  his  pipe.  He  was  a  typical 
westerner,  good  natured  and  loquacious,  but 
evidently  not  overstocked  with  patience,  for  he 
muttered  a  few  expletives  at  the  reproof  so 
pointedly  administered  him  and  rode  some  dis- 
tance ahead,  leading  the  mount  of  another 
lady  member  of  the  party  who  was  more  con- 
siderate of  his  feelings  and  to  whom  he  showed 
every  courtesy.  The  old  lady  followed  directly 
behind  myself  and  though  my  mule  was  one  of 
the  most  sure-footed — he  had  been  twenty  years 
on  the  trail — she  expressed  continual  concern 
and  anxiety  lest  he  should  stumble  and  fall. 
Barney,  as  they  called  him,  was  inclined  to  be 
pretty  slow  and  paid  little  heed  to  my  urging. 
As  a  consequence,  Martha — my  companion's 
mule — often  crowded  him  closely,  at  which 
times  the  old  lady's  uneasiness  seemed  to  increase 
tenfold.  Naturally  I  could  not  but  be  affected 
by  her  anxiety  for  my  safety — for  it  surely 

70 


NEVADA  FALLS,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 
Courtesy  Pillsbury  Photograph  Co. 


THE  YOSEMITE 

must  be  this  that  made  her  take  such  continual 
interest  in  Barney's  keeping  his  feet — though 
my  doubts  were  somewhat  aroused  when  I 
noticed  that  her  solicitude  for  fear  "Barney 
would  stumble"  increased  in  proportion  to  her 
proximity  to  me  and  when,  in  a  particularly  steep 
place,  she  exclaimed  hysterically,  "Barney  will 
surely  fall  down — and  Martha  will  stumble  over 
him." 

In  ascending  the  trail  we  follow  the  Merced 
for  some  distance  and  catch  many  glimpses  of 
swift  rapids  and  of  Nevada  and  Vernal  Falls. 
These  are  two  of  the  finest  of  the  Yosemite 
cataracts,  with  a  good  volume  of  water  at  all 
times  of  the  year.  We  continue  along  the 
riotous  river  past  the  Happy  Isles  and  cross  a 
rude  log  bridge  from  which,  barely  a  half  mile 
away,  we  have  a  splendid  view  of  Vernal  Fall, 
where  the  river  drops  sheer  three  hundred  and 
fifty  feet — a  glorious  column  of  dazzling  white 
against  the  dark  background  of  the  canyon. 
From  the  foot  of  the  cataract  a  cloud  of  spray 
rises  incessantly  and  the  river,  as  if  mad  to 
escape  its  vexation  and  turmoil,  dashes  in  wild 
precipitation  among  the  great  granite  rocks  that 
lie  scattered  along  its  bed.  The  trail  passes 
directly  by  the  top  of  the  fall  and  we  dismount 
for  a  short  rest  and  closer  view.  A  mile  farther 

71 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

we  come  to  Nevada  Fall,  twice  the  height  of 
Vernal,  though  its  drop  is  not  so  sheer.  It 
plunges  down  the  sharply  sloping  precipice  over 
which  it  writhes  like  a  living  thing,  green  in 
color  tone  and  more  compact  than  a  sheer  fall, 
but  a  sight  of  unmatched  grandeur  and  beauty, 
made  the  more  impressive  by  the  great  Liberty 
Cap,  an  odd  granite  cone  rising  two  thousand 
feet  from  the  pool  at  its  base.  Just  back  of  th<e 
fall  stands  Mount  Broderick,  while  Half  Dome 
near  at  hand  looks  majestically  down  upon  the 
roaring  flood. 

And  this  same  Half  Dome  is  the  glory  of 
Glacier  Point  Trail,  if  not  indeed  of  the  valley. 
Whatever  direction  our  path  twisted  we  still 
beheld  this  bald,  awful  mountain  flinging  its 
rounded  summit,  dazzling  white,  against  a  clear 
sky  of  intensest  blue.  It  overshadows  and 
dominates  everything  and  one  can  scarce  repress 
an  earnest  longing  to  stand  on  its  dreadful 
summit  and  view  the  marvelous  scene  beneath. 
"I  was  on  the  Half  Dome  once,"  said  the  guide. 
"There  is  a  flat  space  of  more  than  eight  acres, 
though  it  doesn't  look  it  from  here/'  I  was 
seized  with  a  happy  idea — "Some  day  there  will 
be  a  great  hotel  on  Half  Dome.  Vernal  Fall 
will  furnish  power  to  run  elevators  through 
tunnels  to  the  top."  The  guide  looked  at  me 

72 


FALLS,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 
Courtesy  Santa  Fe  Railway 


THE  YOSEMITE 

in  amazement  and  finally  said  in  a  sympathetic 
tone,  "I'm  a-thinking  a  fellow  would  be  a  little 
weak  in  his  upper  story  to  talk  of  a  hotel  on 
Half  Dome." 

One  will  be  quite  ready  for  dinner  when  he 
reaches  Glacier  Point  Hotel.  The  last  few 
miles  of  the  trail  are  devoid  of  much  interest; 
there  is  little  of  importance  save  the  yawning 
canyon  of  the  Illilouette — which,  were  it  not 
in  a  land  so  replete  with  greater  wonders, 
would  be  worth  a  long  pilgrimage  of  itself — and 
the  fall  of  this  beautiful  stream,  which  darts 
down  a  five-hundred-foot  precipice.  For  some 
distance  the  trail  closely  hugs  the  edge  of  the 
canyon,  then  crosses  a  rustic  bridge  and  the  final 
ascent  is  begun  through  a  dense  growth  of 
chinquapin  bushes.  The  tourist  unaccustomed 
to  mule-back  jaunts  on  mountain  trails  will  find 
himself  pretty  sore  and  weary  by  the  time  he 
reaches  this  point  and  the  decreasing  interest  of 
the  scenery  makes  the  end  eagerly  desired. 
A  most  welcome  sight  is  the  plain,  unpretentious 
inn  standing  in  a  grove  of  fine  pines.  It  affords 
a  welcome  break  in  the  journey  when  time  per- 
mits and  surely  it  must  be  well  worth  remaining 
here  over  night  if  only  to  see  sunrise  and  sunset 
amidst  such  surroundings.  But  as  it  is  we  must 
make  the  most  of  our  two  hours'  pause,  and  after 

73 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

a  hasty  luncheon  we  walk  the  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards  to  the  famous  Glacier  Point  view 
from  the  Overhanging  Rock.  No  marvel  of 
Yosemite  is  more  widely  known  than  this  mas- 
sive boulder  that  projects  itself  so  airily  from  the 
extreme  edge  of  this  stupendous  cliff.  The 
great  stone,  weighing  many  tons,  apparently 
clings  to  its  perilous  perch  by  the  frailest  hold 
possible,  seeming  as  if  with  your  weight  added  it 
must  inevitably  plunge  to  the  floor  of  the  valley 
more  than  three  thousand  feet  beneath — so 
sheer  that  a  pebble  which  one  may  drop  from 
the  stone  touches  nothing  in  its  descent  of  more 
than  half  a  mile.  One  sees  many  photographs 
of  venturesome  people  standing  on  the  edge  of 
the  rock,  but  they  are  doubtless  the  exceptions, 
for  the  average  visitor  feels  little  inclination  to 
go  out  upon  it — nor  is  it  at  all  necessary  to  do 
so,  since  the  magnificent  scene  may  be  viewed 
safely  from  behind  the  iron  railings  that  guard 
the  verge  of  the  cliff. 

And  it  is  a  scene  magnificent  beyond  all 
power  of  pen  or  pencil  to  portray.  Indeed, 
there  must  come  to  every  beholder  something  of 
the  feeling  of  the  pilgrim  of  the  Earthly  Para- 
dise, when 

"Down  into  the  vale  he  gazed, 
And  held  his  breath,  as  if  amazed 

74 


THE  YOSEMITE 

By  all  its  wondrous  loveliness. 
For  as  the  sun  its  depths  did  bless, 
It  lighted  up  from  side  to  side, 
A  close-shut  valley,  nothing  wide, 
But  ever  full  of  all  things  fair/' 
Not  a  few  experienced  travelers  have  pro- 
nounced the  Glacier  Point  view  the  grandest 
sight  on  earth.      It  is   one  that  every  visitor 
should  see,   for  from   this   point  his  eye  may 
range  over  all  of  the  more  striking  glories  of 
Yosemite.     Fortunately,  the  day  is  perfect,  clear 
as   crystal  to   the  very  verge   of  the  horizon. 
Well  might  one  yield  himself  up  to  silent  amaze- 
ment as  the  scene  slowly  possesses  him,  for  he 
will  be  totally  unable  to  grasp  its  full  grandeur 
in  a  moment  or  even  in  an  hour.     There  is  a 
vague  impression  of  vastness  and  beauty,  but 
it  is  some  time  ere  the  mind  is  able  to  dwell  on  the 
details  and  to  analyze  the  marvelous  landscape 
into  its  component  parts. 

Nearly  a  mile  below  lies  the  narrow  green 
vale,  its  giant  pines  seemingly  shrubbery,  its 
streams  the  merest  threads  of  silver,  the  hotel 
a  child's  toy  house,  Mirror  Lake  a  dot  of  light 
—yet  all  is  remarkably  distinct  in  the  lucent 
daylight;  distance  has  only  lessened  the  size  and 
scarcely  dimmed  the  form.  Just  opposite  one 
sees  the  white  swaying  ribbon  of  Yosemite  Fall ; 

75 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

to  the  right  rises  the  tremendous  bulk  of  El 
Capitan,  which  suffers  little  from  the  distance, 
and  towering  just  behind  this  is  Eagle  Peak. 
A  still  grander  view  greets  the  eye  as  one  turns 
to  the  left  and  gazes  up  the  valley.  The  domi- 
nating feature  is  the  rounded  white  summit  of 
Half  Dome,  for  its  bold  situation  in  the  fore- 
ground gives  the  impression  of  greater  height 
than  the  still  loftier  Clouds  Rest  just  behind  it. 
One  is  quite  overwhelmed  by  this  weird 
glistening  mountain,  so  strangely  different  that 
it  seems  as  if  some  titantic  architect  had  planned 
and  reared  the  stately  dome  as  the  crowning 
glory  of  his  gigantic  palace.  When  the  eye  at 
last  breaks  away  from  the  fascination  of  this 
strange  peak,  it  ranges  over  an  undulating  sea 
of  mountains — the  high  Sierras,  which  today 
stretch  away  sharp  and  clear  to  the  horizon.  A 
few  billowy,  cumulus  clouds,  like  cameos 
against  the  deep  azure  of  the  skies,  float  just 
above,  their  intense  whiteness  outshining  the 
flecks  of  snow  yet  lingering  upon  the  higher , 
altitudes.  Vernal  and  Nevada  Falls  may  be 
seen  in  the  foreground,  white  pillars  standing 
sharply  against  dark  masses  of  rock  and  pine 
trees — but  why  continue  my  futile  effort  to  set 
forth  the  glory  of  Glacier  Point  panorama  in 
words?  It  has  never  been  done  and  never  will 

76 


VERNAL  FALLS,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 
Courtesy  Southern  Pacific  Railway 


THE  YOSEMITE 

be  done.  Only  a  visit  in  person  will  suffice  and, 
fortunately,  such  a  visit  may  now  be  made  with 
little  danger  or  fatigue.  Only,  one  should  plan 
to  go  no  further  for  the  day — surely  a  dozen 
hours  are  little  enough  to  give  to  the  sublimest 
view  that  one  is  likely  ever  to  see.  But  we  were 
not  so  wise,  and  mayhap  must  return  again  to 
Glacier  Point. 


77 


Ill 

TO  THE  MARIPOSA  GROVE 

Our  driver  cracks  his  whip  over  his  four 
lusty  mountaineers  and  cries,  "All  aboard!" 
The  fussy  old  lady  manages  to  delay  the  start 
for  a  quarter  of  an  hour — meditating  under  a 
tree  is  her  excuse — and  the  driver,  a  somewhat 
taciturn  fellow  at  best,  starts  off  in  a  rather  ill 
humor.  We  sit  beside  him  on  the  high  seat, 
but  it  is  some  time  before  he  relaxes  to  tell  us 
something  of  the  legends  and  curiosities  of  the 
great  Sierra  forests  through  which  he  has  been 
driving  for  twenty-five  years.  It  is  indeed  a 
marvelous  drive,  the  twenty-six  miles  from 
Glacier  Point  to  Wawona,  though  in  retrospect 
the  many  wonders  of  the  Yosemite  and  the  big 
trees  may  leave  a  somewhat  tame  impression  of 
this  really  delightful  stretch  of  country. 
Nowhere  in  America  are  there  finer  or  more 
beautiful  individual  pine  trees — great  arrow- 
straight  shafts  six  to  ten  feet  in  diameter,  rising 
to  a  height  of  two  to  three  hundred  feet.  The 

78 


OVERHANGING  ROCK,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 

Courtesy  Pillsbury  Picture  Co. 


THE  YOSEMITE 

I 

sugar  pine,  with  its  golden  bark  and  coat  of 
silver-gray  needles,  is  perhaps  the  most  beautiful, 
and  takes  its  name  from  the  sugary  gum  that 
exudes  from,  a  cut  or  crack  in  its  bark.  The 
fine  yellow  pines  are  also  noticeable,  rivaling  the 
sugar  pine  in  size  and  beauty.  There  are  many 
other  varieties  of  conifers  in  the  Yosemite 
forests,  of  which  the  Sequoia  is  the  largest  and 
most  famous.  However,  one  sees  none  of  the 
latter  along  the  road  to  Wawona — these  trees 
are  never  found  isolated  among  other  varieties, 
but  invariably  in  groups. 

Nearly  all  the  pines  are  heavily  draped  with 
a  yellowish-green  parasitic  moss  which,  while 
beautiful  to  behold,  is  said  to  be  deadly  to  the 
trees,  slowly  sapping  their  vitality.  It  first 
takes  hold  of  the  lower  limbs — often  dead  ones 
— and  gradually  climbs  to  the  top  of  the  trees, 
some  of  which  have  already  yielded  to  its 
ravages.  "It's  been  just  as  common  as  it  is  now 
during  the  twenty  years  I  have  been  in  this 
forest,"  said  the  driver,  "and  I  guess  it  can't  hurt 
the  trees  as  much  as  they  claim." 

There  are  many  fine  deciduous  trees  and 
much  shrubbery,  among  which  the  glistening 
mountain  mahogany  and  fruit-laden  plum  trees 
are  commonest.  The  road,  though  an  old  one, 
is  poor,  stony  and  very  dusty,  while  the  ruts 

79 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

and  ditches  cause  the  coach  to  lurch  unmerci- 
fully. The  drive  of  twenty-six  miles  in  four 
hours  would  be  easy  enough  over  a  fairly  good 
rpad,  but  over  this  mountain  trail  it  is  a  weari- 
some one  and  so  much  time  is  consumed  in 
climbing  that  it  necessitates  fast  going  down 
some  of  the  mountain  slopes.  It  tells  heavily 
on  the  horses,  which  appear  to  be  about  worn 
out  at  the  end  of  the  thirteen  mile  stage,  where 
a  fresh  relay  awaits  us. 

The  last  dozen  miles  of  the  drive  we  shall 
not  easily  forget.  We  are  somewhat  behind 
schedule  and  the  day  is  declining.  The  road 
steadily  descends  the  mountain,  often  dropping 
down  sharp  declivities  or  winding — too  closely 
for  one's  peace  of  mind — along  precipitous 
slopes  that  drop  darkly  through  the  pines  to  a 
rock-strewn  stream  far  below.  Down  we  go, 
the  horses  on  a  sharp  trot  and  the  coach  swaying 
and  plunging  behind.  One  has  to  admire  the 
skill  of  the  driver,  who  keeps  his  four  closely  in 
hand,  making  each  horse  do  his  share  of  the 
work,  carefully  guiding  them  and  often  saving 
them  from  an  apparently  disastrous  stumble. 
We  are  already  sore  from  the  trail  trip  of  the 
morning,  but  that  was  as  nothing  compared  with 
this  coach  ride.  We  hardly  note  the  glorious 
sunset  vistas  through  the  pines  by  the  roadside 

80 


THE  YOSEMITE 

—  often  far-reaching  over  forest-clad  peaks 
which  stand  in  sharp  relief  against  the  glowing 
sky,  while  a  soft  blue  haze  half  hides  the  valleys. 

Night  comes  on  before  we  reach  our  desti- 
nation and  it  is  an  hour  or  two  after  sunset  when 
the  lights  of  Wawona  finally  glimmer  through 
the  trees.  We  descend  from  our  perch  with 
difficulty  and  welcome  indeed  is  the  open- 
handed  hospitality  of  the  well-ordered  inn. 
There  are  several  cottages  besides  the  main 
hotel  building,  all  situated  in  beautifully  kept 
grounds  with  fountains  and  flower-beds.  Every- 
thing is  strictly  modern  and  first-class.  At 
breakfast  mountain  trout  is  served,  which  is  the 
only  time  we  have  this  delicacy — erroneously 
supposed  to  be  a  common  article  of  diet  at  the 
inns  and  camps  of  the  valley. 

The  genial  landlord  tries  to  dissuade  us 
when  he  learns  that  we  expect  to  visit  the  big 
trees  and  return  to  El  Portal  on  the  next  day. 
To  do  this  we  must  rise  at  five  and  accomplish 
a  stage  drive  of  fifty  miles  over  roads  rather 
worse  than  any  we  have  yet  traversed — truly  a 
strenuous  program  to  follow  upon  such  a  day  as 
we  have  just  finished.  It  would  have  been  more 
sensible  to  remain  another  day  at  iWawona,  to 
see  the  big  trees  at  our  leisure  and  take  one  or 

more  of  the  interesting  drives  in  the  neighbor- 
si 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

hood.  The  round  trip  from  the  hotel  through 
the  big  tree  grove  is  seventeen  miles,  and  this 
of  itself  would  be  quite  enough  to  occupy  the 
day  if  time  permitted;  one  should  spend  hours 
under  these  primeval  titans  and  perchance  some- 
thing of  their  mystery  might  be  dispelled  and 
somewhat  of  their  majesty  enter  the  soul.  But 
our  tour  through  the  wonderlands  was  carefully 
planned  in  advance — we  must  go  on  schedule. 
We  know  now  that  this  should  never  be  done. 
Give  yourself  a  margin  of  a  week  when  planning 
your  trip  if  you  intend  to  make  the  round 
suggested  in  this  book. 

As  I  have  intimated,  one  who  comes  from 
Yosemite  is  well  schooled  in  wonders  ere  he 
reaches  the  Big  Trees  of  Mariposa,  and  the 
drive  from  Wawona  passes  a  forest  of  pines  so 
gigantic  that  many  suppose  them  the  famous 
Sequoias  until  better  informed.  But  when  one 
finally  enters  the  charmed  circle  where  the  Red- 
wood titans  stand  and  catches  his  first  sight  of 
their  cinnamon-colored  trunks — twenty  feet  or 
more  in  diameter — all  the  great  conifers  pre- 
viously beheld  shrink  to  the  dimension  of 
ordinary  telephone  poles.  And  there  is  no  mis- 
taking the  Redwood  after  once  seeing  it,  for  it 
is  quite  distinctive,  both  in  bark  and  foliage ;  one 
might  describe  it  as  a  cross  between  the  cedar 

82 


THE  YOSEMITE 

and  yellow  pine,  for  it  bears  some  characteristics 
of  both.  Its  height,  rarely  over  three  hundred 
feet,  is  much  less  in  proportion  to  its  girth  than 
that  of  the  pines  in  general,  nor  are  the  highest 
Sequoias  as  a  rule  of  the  greatest  diameter,  since 
the  Grizzly  Giant,  the  king  of  them  all,  is  but 
two  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  high.  This 
is  accounted  for  on  the  theory  that  such  trees 
must  have  suffered  numerous  thunder  strokes 
in  the  course  of  the  ages. 

Once  among  the  trees,  however,  one  is  quite 
unable  to  realize  their  stupendous  size.  He  has, 
in  truth,  become  so  inured  to  the  stupendous 
by  this  time  that  everything  has  shrunken  and 
it  takes  the  figures  of  actual  dimensions  to 
awaken  a  true  realization  of  the  mighty  propor- 
tions of  these  splendid  trees.  We  pause  beneath 
one  of  them.  "The  Grizzly  Giant,"  laconically 
remarks  our  driver,  and  it  comes  to  us  that  we 
are  perhaps  gazing  on  the  oldest  living  thing  on 
this  earth  of  ours;  for  John  Muir,  the  greatest 
authority  on  the  Sierra  forests,  declares  that 
this  hoary  monarch  of  the  wood  has  undoubtedly 
weathered  the  storms  of  upwards  of  six  thou- 
sand years.  A  placard  tells  us  that  the  diameter 
of  the  tree  is  thirty-four  feet,  but  we  must  needs 
pace  it  round  to  make  sure,  and  finding  it  true 
we  can  accept  the  assurance  that  one  million  feet 

83 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

of  board  lumber — perish  the  thought — could  be 
cut  from  the  Grizzly  Giant.  No  wonder  the 
lumber  kings  look  greedily  upon  him!  A  limb 
one  hundred  feet  from  the  ground  measures 
seven  feet  in  diameter,  and  one  must  think  of  a 
tree  of  this  size  apart  from  the  Sierra  giants  to 
realize  what  it  means.  There  are  three  hundred 
and  sixty-five  trees  in  the  Mariposa  Grove,  but 
Mr.  Muir  thinks  that  the  Giant  is  the  only  one 
that  has  reached  the  zenith  of  its  growth.  The 
age  of  such  a  tree  must  necessarily  be  more  or 
less  a  matter  of  conjecture,  but  Mr.  Muir  counted 
the  rings  of  annual  growth  on  a  much  smaller 
one  which  had  fallen  and  proved  conclusively 
that  it  had  lived  upwards  of  four  thousand 
years.  In  any  event,  the  Grizzly  Giant  and  his 
hoary  companions  were  flourishing  hale  and 
green  long  before  authentic  records  of  human 
history  were  made,  and  even  before  the  once 
accepted  date  of  the  creation  of  the  world.  A 
strange  sense  of  awe  verging  upon  reverence 
creeps  over  one  as  he  meditates  on  these  impres- 
sive facts  in  the  presence  of  these  splendid  trees. 
All  show  to  some  extent  the  ravages  of  a  fire  that 
swept  among  them  some  time  prior  to  their 
discovery  by  white  men,  and  which  was  no  doubt 
responsible  for  the  absence  of  young  trees  and 
undergrowth. 

84 


"GRIZZLY  GIANT,"  MARIPOSA  GROVE,  CALIFORNIA 

Courtesy  Pillsburv  Picture  Co. 


THE  YOSEMITE 

The  road  winds  through  the  grove,  giving 
an  opportunity  to  view  the  largest  trees  at  close 
range.  These  have  been  named  mainly  for  the 
different  states,  though  some  of  them  commemo- 
rate the  visits  of  distinguished  men,  including 
Generals  Sherman  and  Grant.  At  one  point  the 
road  passes  through  the  famous  archway  cut  in 
the  "Wawona,"  some  ten  feet  square,  easily 
permitting  the  passage  of  the  coaches.  We 
descend  and  measure  our  own  pygmy  height 
beside  the  "Fallen  Monarch/'  which  succumbed 
to  some  cataclysm  years  ago — a  vast  prone 
trunk  twenty-eight  feet  in  diameter  at  the  base. 
One  appreciates  its  great  size  more  fully  than 
that  of  the  standing  trees  of  the  same  dimen- 
sions. We  may  climb  a  ladder  and  walk  the 
entire  length  of  the  trunk,  which  as  yet  shows 
little  traces  of  decay.  A  popular  photo  shows  a 
coach-and-six  using  the  tree  as  a  driveway — 
possibly  a  "fake"  of  some  clever  photographer, 
but  it  must  have  cost  some  effort  and  ingenuity 
if  the  vehicle  and  horses  were  really  gotten  into 
the  position  shown  in  the  picture.  Just  what 
overthrew  this  great  tree  is  not  easy  to  conceive. 
It  may  have  been  a  terrific  storm,  though  if  this 
were  the  cause,  it  is  difficult  to  understand  why 
others  of  the  larger  trees  were  not  blown  down 
as  well. 

85 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

There  is  one  of  the  trees  still  standing 
which  was  hollowed  out  by  fire  and  one  may 
look  at  the  sky  through  the  trunk,  perhaps  a 
hundred  feet  in  height.  It  is  known  as  the  tele- 
scope tree,  and  no  doubt  someone  in  almost 
every  party  suffers  from  the  driver's  wit  in 
being  assured  that  "the  stars  can  be  plainly 
seen  through  the  hollow  trunk."  "Why,  I  can't 
see  any,"  is  the  invariable  exclamation  of  the 
curious  tourist  who  strains  his  eyes  up  the  great 
black  tube.  "O,  you  will  have  to  come  at  night, 
of  course,"  gleefully  rejoins  the  driver,  none  the 
less  enjoying  a  joke  he  has  repeated  daily  for 
perhaps  a  dozen  years. 

The  discoverer  of  the  Mariposa  Grove  was 
Mr.  Galen  Clark,  who  at  the  time  of  our  visit 
was  an  old  man  in  his  ninety-sixth  year,  though 
he  was  then  still  hale  and  strong.  He  made  his 
home  among  the  great  trees,  which  he  loved  as 
friends  and  comrades,  and  was  delighted  to  meet 
the  tourists  who  came  to  his  cabin.  He  first 
learned  of  the  trees  in  1857  from  the  Indians, 
whose  name  for  the  now  famous  grove  was 
Wahwonah.  Since  these  lines  were  Written  the 
old  pioneer  has  passed  peacefully  away,  and  his 
last  request  was  that  he  might  be  buried  among 
the  giant  trees  he  loved  so  well.  No  fitter 
monument  could  be  given  him  than  one  of  these 

86 


"VERMONT"  AND  "WAWONA,"  MARIPOSA  GROVE,  CALIFORNIA 
Courtesy  Southern  Pacific  Railway 


THE  YOSEMITE 

old  friends  of  his,  which  bears  the  name  of  Galen 
Clark  and  an  inscription  to  his  memory. 

There  are  many  thousands  of  these  trees  in 
different  parts  of  the  coast  country — John  Muir 
thinks  as  many  as  six  thousand  above  fifteen 
feet  in  diameter.  The  name  of  the  species, 
Sequoia,  is  that  of  a  California  Indian  Chief, — 
more  appropriate  indeed  than  Wellingtonia, 
which  a  patriotic  English  explorer  urged  for 
adoption.  There  are  two  varieties,  the  Sequoia 
Gigantea,  usually  found  in  the  higher  altitudes, 
and  the  Sequoia  Sempervirens  or.  Redwood, 
which  are  more  frequent  in  the  lowlands  along 
the  coast.  These  seldom  grow  to  the  huge  size 
of  the  Gigantea — and  furnish  the  redwood 
lumber  of  commerce,  which  closely  resembles 
cedar. 

The  problem  of  felling  these  great  trees  is 
a  difficult  one — a  fortunate  thing,  for  that 
matter.  It  will  be  recalled  that  the  section  of  a 
Sequoia,  perhaps  thirty  feet  in  diameter,  was 
exhibited  at  the  Chicago  Fair  in  1893.  This 
came  from  the  King's  River  Grove.  Such  trees 
were  at  first  felled  by  the  use  of  pump  augers, 
with  which  holes  were  bored  parallel  to  each 
other,  until  the  entire  trunk  was  severed,  but 
improved  cutting  machinery  makes  the  task  far 
easier  now.  Mr.  Hutchings  tells  of  one  tree  that 

87 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

defied  every  effort  of  the  lumbermen  to  over- 
throw it,  although  it  had  been  entirely  severed; 
but  after  some  days  of  fruitless  effort  a  gust  of 
wind  brought  the  giant  to  the  earth  with  a  crash 
while  the  men  were  at  dinner. 

But  it  is  painful  even  to  write  of  felling  a 
Sequoia.  What  right  has  man  in  a  few  days  to 
destroy  the  majesty  and  beauty  that  has  required 
fifty  or  sixty  centuries  to  produce?  Several  of 
the  groves  have  fortunately  passed  under 
National  protection,  though  some  of  them — 
notably  this  one  at  Calavaras,  sixty  miles  north 
of  Yosemite  and  one  of  the  finest  of  all — are  still 
owned  by  private  parties.  The  Calavaras  Grove 
belongs  to  a  lumber  company,  but  its  distance 
from  railroads  has  as  yet  protected  it  from 
destruction;  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  it  will  be 
purchased  by  the  Government  and  opened  to  the 
public.  To  visit  this  grove  one  should  go  by 
rail  to  Sonora  and  from  thence  thirty-five  miles 
by  wagon  road. 

Though  the  Sequoia  trees  have  never  been 
found  outside  of  a  limited  area  in  the  Sierras 
and  seldom  below  an  elevation  of  seven  thousand 
feet,  they  appear  to  grow  readily  and  rapidly 
elsewhere.  Mr.  Hutchings  cites  an  instance  of 
one  of  these  trees,  transplanted  to  an  English 
nobleman's  park,  attaining  a  height  of  sixty 

88 


THE  YOSEMITE 

feet  and  a  girth  of  ten  feet  in  about  thirty  years. 
The  trees  would  therefore  appear  to  be  admir- 
ably adapted  to  the  purpose  of  reforestation. 
They  are  extremely  hardy  and  unless  over- 
thrown by  some  catastrophe  or  felled  by  the 
woodman,  live  for  ages.  Of  this  John  Muir 
says,  "They  seem  to  be  immortal,  being  exempt 
from  all  the  diseases  that  afflict  and  kill  other 
trees.  Unless  destroyed  by  man,  they  live  on 
indefinitely  until  burned,  smashed  by  lightning, 
cast  down  by  storms,  or  by  the  giving  away  of 
the  ground  upon  which  they  stand.  The  age 
of  the  one  that  was  felled  in  the  Calavaras  Grove 
for  the  sake  of  having  its  stump  for  a  dancing 
floor,  was  about  thirteen  hundred  years,  and  its 
diameter,  measured  across  the  stump,  twenty- 
four  feet  inside  the  bark.  Another  that  was 
felled  in  the  King's  River  Forest,  a  section  of 
which  was  shipped  to  the  World's  Fair  at 
Chicago,  was  nearly  a  thousand  years  older 
(twenty-two  hundred  years),  though  not  a  very 
old-looking  tree.  The  colossal  scarred  monu- 
ment in  the  King's  River  Forest  mentioned 
above  is  burned  half  through,  and  I  spent  a  day 
in  making  an  estimate  of  its  age,  clearing  away 
the  charred  surface  with  an  ax,  and  carefully 
counting  the  annual  rings  with  the  aid  of  a 
pocket  lens.  The  wood  rings  in  the  section  I 

89 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

laid  bare  were  so  involved  and  contorted  in  some 
places  that  I  was  not  able  to  determine  its  age 
exactly,  but  I  counted  over  four  thousand  rings, 
which  showed  that  this  tree  was  in  its  prime, 
swaying  in  the  Sierra  winds,  when  Christ  walked 
the  earth." 


90 


IV 
THE  RETURN  TO  EL  PORTAL 

We  had  early  luncheon  at  Wawona  and 
before  noon  set  out  on  the  thirty-five  mile  drive* 
to  El  Portal.  The  day  was  quite  warm  and 
the  first  dozen  miles,  being  steadily  up  grade, 
were  covered  at  a  snail's  pace.  We  could  not 
escape  the  dust  which  arose  in  clouds  beneath 
the  horses'  feet  and  ere  long  many  of  our  party 
would  pass  for  aborigines,  so  begrimed  were 
their  faces.  The  fussy  old  lady,  still  with  us, 
again  aroused  the  ire  of  the  driver.  She  plied 
him  with  foolish  questions,  to  which  he  grunted 
unwilling  answers.  She  wanted  to  know  the 
names  of  the  horses  and  finally  learned  that  the 
leaders  were  "Colonel"  and  "Walnut."  The  road 
sorely  tried  the  animals,  which  required  continual 
urging  and  pretty  free  use  of  the  whip.  They 
were  allowed  frequent  breathing  spells,  but  the 
driver  seemed  to  think  that  vigorous  applications 
of  the  whip  and  pretty  strong  language  were 
necessary  to  keep  them  going.  And,  indeed,  if 

91 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

left  to  themselves  they  apparently  would  have 
stopped  every  ten  yards  in  climbing  the  long 
grade;  but  clearly  if  we  were  to  reach  El  Portal 
ere  night  they  must  be  kept  going.  This 
necessity  was  quite  forgotten  by  the  old  lady  in 
her  sympathy  for  the  weary  horses  and  she  con- 
tinually beseeched  the  driver  to  "let  Colonel  and 
Walnut  rest  awhile."  Finally  when  for  the 
twentieth  time  she  had  importuned  him,  he 
turned  squarely  around  facing  her,  with — 
"Madam,  I  am  driving  these  horses.  Will  you 
please  keep  quiet?"  which  silenced  her  for  the 
time  being — at  least  so  far  as  nagging  the  driver 
was  concerned. 

But  Colonel  and  Walnut  soon  get  their 
rest  none  the  less,  for  after  three  or  four  hours 
of  painful  creeping  we  find  ourselves  at  the 
thirteen-mile  station,  where  we  pause  for  a 
change  of  horses.  The  occupants  of  the  coach 
are  perhaps  nearly  as  weary  as  the  animals  we 
leave  behind,  but  after  a  ten-minutes'  respite, 
barely  time  to  dismount  and  stretch  one's 
cramped  legs,  the  crack  of  the  driver's  whip  is 
a  signal  for  resuming  our  journey.  So  far  we 
have  been  retracing  our  way  over  the  road  that 
we  followed  in  going  to  Wawona,  but  we  leave 
it  at  this  point  and  continue  on  the  old  Raymond 
stage  road  that  enters  the  western  end  of  the 

92 


BRIDAL  VEIL  FALLS,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 
Courtesy  Santa  Fe  Railway 


THE  YOSEMITE 

valley.  The  characteristics  of  the  country  for 
the  next  ten  miles  show  little  variation;  pine- 
clad  mountains  and  pleasant  vales  through 
which  the  road  winds  afford  many  fine  vistas, 
but  nothing  that  in  any  way  prepares  us  for  the 
scene  that  bursts  on  our  vision  at  Inspiration 
Point — well  named,  indeed,  for  it  must  surely 
be  a  prosaic  imagination  that  does  not  kindle 
with  enthusiasm  at  the  prospect.  "It  comes  up 
to  the  brag/'  is  what  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 
said  after  contemplating  it  long  in  silence — or 
at  least  that  is  what  the  guide  books  and  railroad 
literature  credit  him  with  having  said.  It 
sounds  strangely  unlike  our  staid  and  gentle 
philosopher,  whose  language  we  are  wont  to 
admire  as  the  finality  in  polished  English. 
But  it  expresses  one's  feelings  more  strongly, 
perhaps,  than  fine  words.  We  have  been  led  to 
expect  much;  they  have  assured  us,  and  we  have 
often  read,  that  the  view  from  Inspiration  Point 
is  surpassed  by  few  panoramas  in  the  world — if 
indeed  by  any — for  grandeur  of  mountain,  cliff 
and  peak  and  for  beauty  of  contour  and  color, 
and  all  of  these  are  enhanced  by  the  magic  of 
the  hour  when  we  are  so  fortunate  as  to  see  it. 
The  valley  lies  before  us  in  the  soft  blue  haze  of 
the  evening  shadows,  and  its  encompassing  walls 
and  towers  are  kindled  with  the  purple  and 

93 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

golden  hues  of  the  sunset.  As  one  contemplates 
the  glittering  peaks  and  domes  and  the  ranges 
of  glowing  mountains  out  beyond,  he  can  realize 
John  Muir's  characterization  of  the  Sierras  as 
the  "Mountains  of  Light/'  The  grandeur  of 
Inspiration  Point  seems  more  of  cliffs  and  spires, 
of  towering  walls  and  mountain  peaks,  while 
from  Glacier  Point  one  is  perhaps  more  inter- 
ested in  the  details  of  the  valley  itself.  But  from 
either  point  one  may  witness  a  scene  that  will 
possess  his  soul  and  whose  beauty  will  linger 
through  the  years.  We  regret  the  necessity 
which  hurries  us  from  the  scene,  for  the  pause  of 
the  stage  coach  is  but  momentary.  We  have 
had  but  a  glimpse  of  a  landscape  that  might 
well  hold  one's  rapt  attention  for  hours. 

But  we  have  come  to  the  most  exciting 
portion  of  our  tour — we  begin  our  ride  down 
the  mountainside  into  the  valley.  If  one  is 
inclined  to  be  nervous,  he  had  better  close  his 
eyes  and  trust  to  Providence — and  the  skill  of 
the  driver.  He  will  doubtless  be  safe  enough, 
for  there  are  no  recorded  accidents,  dangerous 
as  the  descent  seems  at  the  time.  The  road 
zigzags  in  sharp  angles  and  steep  grades  down 
the  rim  of  the  valley;  in  many  places  there  is  less 
than  a  foot  between  our  coach  wheels  and  a  sheer 
sickening  precipice.  On  we  go,  the  horses  in  a 

94 


c      ct  .      < 


THE  YOSEMITE 

sharp  trot  and  the  coach  lunging  along  the 
uneven  road  or  swinging  around  the  sharp 
curves.  We  pay  little  attention  to  the  fine 
views  that  continually  present  themselves  as  we 
descend — our  minds  are  not  free  from  apprehen- 
sion by  any  means — and  we  find  ourselves 
tensely  watching  our  driver  with  not  a  little 
admiration  for  his  masterly  skill.  How  confi- 
dently he  handles  his  spanking  four,  swinging 
them  in  wide  circles  around  the  corners,  keeping 
a  tight  rein  that  checks  many  incipient  stumbles 
and  encouraging  the  horses  with  words  they 
appear  well  to  understand. 

It  seems  a  long  three  miles  to  the  floor  of 
the  valley  and  it  is  with  a  sigh  of  relief  that  we 
look  up  the  cliff  down  which  we  have  been 
plunging.  We  pause  just  at  the  foot  of  Bridal 
Veil  Fall  and  change  to  the  regular  coach 
between  the  Sentinel  Hotel  and  El  Portal.  Our 
journey  is  not  yet  at  an  end,  for  we  have  eight 
miles  to  go — only  eight  miles,  but  we  are  so 
tired  and  travel- worn  that  every  mile  is  a 
league.  The  coach  seems  barely  to  creep  along 
the  rough  road — inches  deep  with  dust,  which 
rolls  up  in  white  stifling  clouds  from  beneath 
our  wheels.  Surely  we  must  be  near  our  desti- 
nation— but  the  driver  laconically  informs  us 
that  we  have  five  miles  still.  Five  miles! — we 

95 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

have  come  but  three.  iWe  settle  back  in  dumb 
despair,  not  venturing  to  ask  again.  Better  the 
ignorance  of  hope  than  the  distress  of  such 
positive  knowledge. 

Never  was  the  sight  of  hostelry  more 
welcome  than  the  huge  brown  bulk  of  the  Del 
Portal  through  the  pine  trees  that  crowd  around 
it.  Yes,  the  genial  manager  can  give  us  rooms 
with  bath,  large  comfortable  rooms  on  the  first 
floor  with  every  facility  for  finally  separating 
ourselves  from  the  dust  of  Yosemite.  We  come 
forth  to  our  late  dinner,  somewhat  sore  and 
weary,  to  be  sure,  but  with  a  feeling  of  cleanli- 
ness and  relief  that  quite  atones  for  all  the 
hardships  of  the  day.  We  have  been  wise 
enough  to  take  plain  old  clothes  for  our  sojourn, 
both  here  and  in  the  Yellowstone — a  precaution 
which  will  contribute  not  a  little  to  comfort  and 
satisfaction,  for  it  would  be  next  to  impossible 
to  enjoy  oneself  in  ordinary  attire.  We  have 
a  night's  rest  too  deep  for  dreams  in  the  Del  Por- 
tal's capacious  beds  and  in  the  morning  start  out 
on  our  return  trip  down  the  Merced  Canyon. 
The  new  Yosemite  Road  runs  first-class  trains, 
with  parlor  observation  cars  that  enable  us  to 
see  many  picturesque  vistas  along  the  river  to 
good  advantage. 

The  valley  falls  rapidly  toward  the  great 

96 


YOSEMITE  FALLS,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 
Courtesy  Southern  Pacific  Railway 


THE  YOSEMITE 

level  plain  surrounding  the  pretty  little  town  of 
Merced,  and  the  stream  pursues  a  riotous  course 
for  many  miles,  often  breaking  into  foaming 
rapids  among  the  huge  boulders  strewn  along 
its  bed.     The  railway  crosses  and  recrosses  it 
many  times — no  small  engineering  skill  being 
evinced  in  its  construction.      There  are  many 
relics  to  be  seen  of  the  mining  operations  of  half 
a  century  ago — in  fact,  the  white  man's  eager- 
ness for  gold  was  one  of  the  factors  leading  to 
the  discovery  of  the  valley.     One  is  continually 
reminded  of  this  activity  of 
"The  days  of  old, 
The  days  of  gold, 
The  days  of  forty-nine," 

by  abandoned  mines  at  different  points  along  the 
river.  Mines  are  still  being  worked  in  the 
valley  by  modern  methods,  a  twenty  stamp  mill 
being  operated  at  Mountain  King.  A  little 
farther  is  the  picturesque  Bagby  dam,  the  un- 
couth modern  designation  for  the  old-time 
Benton  Mills,  named  for  Jessie  Benton  Fre- 
mont. To  see  the  Merced  at  its  best,  however, 
one  must  come  earlier,  for  late  in  August  the 
stream  is  much  shrunken,  though  still  pictur- 
esque and  beautiful. 

At  Merced  Fall  the  railroad  enters  the  San 
Joaquin    Valley    and    follows    the    broad    still 

97 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

stretches  of  the  river,  which  here  gives  little 
evidence  of  its  turbulent  sources.  On  every 
hand  are  prosperous  farms  with  orchards,  vine- 
yards, rich  pastures  and  all  the  thousand  things 
that  make  California  an  enchanted  land.  In 
the  far  distance  glisten  the  silver  peaks  of  the 
High  Sierras,  in  whose  bosom  lies  the  marvelous 
vale  of  beauty  whose  memory  will  live  with  us 
so  long  as  life  shall  last. 


98 


GEOLOGY,  HISTORY  AND  GENERAL 
INFORMATION 

The  probable  geologic  origin  and  the  dis- 
covery by  white  men  of  such  a  stupendous 
natural  wonder  as  the  Yosemite  Valley  are  full 
of  interest  to  most  of  those  who  visit  the  place. 
What  tremendous  convulsion  of  nature  produced 
this  deep  narrow  rent  in  the  serried  ranks  of  the 
High  Sierras  ages  and  ages  ago — so  long  that 
the  angles  have  been  softened  and  the  debris 
clothed  with  verdure  and  gigantic  trees 
wherever  these  hardy  adventurers  can  find  a 
footing  in  the  rocks?  Scientists  have  advanced 
many  theories,  more  or  less  plausible,  to  account 
for  the  strange  phenomenon.  Perhaps,  they 
said,  it  was  some  titanic  earthquake  caused  by 
volcanic  action  in  pre-glacial  days  that  split  the 
mountains  in  twain  and  time  made  the  floor  of 
the  valley  by  filling  the  rent  with  detritus. 
Perhaps  some  strange  subsidence  here  prolonged 
through  ages  formed  the  valley  and  it  may  be 

99 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

that  such  subsidence  still  is  going  on.  Or  did 
some  torrential  river  gradually  erode  this  deep 
pass  through  which  the  Merced  now  courses? 
These  and  other  conjectures  have  been  advanced, 
but  latterly  the  trend  of  opinion  is  in  favor  of  the 
theory  of  glacial  erosion — that  in  time  too 
remote  to  be  conceived  a  great  mass  of  ice  a 
mile  or  more  in  depth  ploughed  its  way  toward 
the  sea,  rounding  and  polishing  the  granite  peaks 
into  the  glittering  domes  which  we  see  today  and 
grinding  and  cutting  the  deep  fissure  that 
now  forms  the  valley.  All  of  this  is  incompre- 
hensible to  the  layman's  mind,  but  the  geologist 
finds  conclusive  proof  of  the  theory.  Professor 
LeConte,  the  greatest  authority  on  this  question, 
reminds  us  that  a  thousand  years  are  as  a 
moment  in  the  history  of  geologic  action ;  if  time 
enough  be  allowed  we  may  account  for  the  con- 
dition now  existing  in  Yosemite.  Clear  evidence 
of  glacial  action  is  found  in  many  places  in  the 
vicinity,  and  the  guide  on  Glacier  Point  Trail 
will  not  fail  to  call  your  attention  to  polished 
spots  on  a  boulder  at  the  head  of  Vernal  Fall. 
This  strange  rock  is  many  times  harder  than  the 
granite  in  which  it  was  embedded;  so  much  so 
that  it  now  projects  nearly  six  feet  above  the 
granite  rock  around  it.  Evidences  of  glacial 

action  may  also  be  seen  on  the  summit  of  Half 

100 


—H          i    i  -    ;  ^  ^tv 

.. _J  ;  i  ?1-%\ 


THE  YOSEMITE 

Dome,  which  John  Muir  declares  must  at  one 
time  have  lain  beneath  a  mountain  of  ice  a  mile 
in  height.  Glaciers,  he  asserts,  have  made  every 
mountain  form  in  the  whole  Sierran  System, 
whose  mountain  peaks  are  only  fragments  of 
their  pre-glacial  selves. 

So  much  for  its  natural  history,  imposing 
indeed  as  compared  with  the  half  century  since 
its  discovery  by  the  white  man.  Secluded  as  it 
is  deep  in  the  heart  of  trackless  wilds,  one  may 
not  wonder  that  its  existence  was  so  long  un- 
known even  to  the  mountaineer;  but  when  the 
thirst  for  gold  aroused  the  energy  and  spirit  of 
adventure  in  the  California  pioneer,  many  of  the 
strange  beauty  spots  of  the  Sierras  were  destined 
to  be  opened  to  the  world.  The  first  glimpse 
of  this  valley  came  to  Dr.  Bunnell  in  1849,  when 
leading  a  company  of  Mariposa  scouts  in  search 
of  hostile  Indians.  He  saw  the  awe-inspiring 
form  of  El  Capitan  from  a  distance  and  declared : 

"Although  I  was  familiar  with  nature  in  her 
wildest  moods,  I  looked  upon  this  awe-inspiring 
column  with  wonder  and  admiration.  While 
vainly  endeavoring  to  realize  its  peculiar  promi- 
nence and  vast  proportions,  I  turned  from  it  with 
reluctance  to  resume  the  search  for  coveted  gold ; 
but  the  impressions  of  that  scene  were  indelibly 

fixed  in  my  memory.      I  made  many  inquiries 

101 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

concerning  the  scenery  of  that  locality,  but  few 
of  the  miners  had  noticed  any  of  its  special 
peculiarities.  A  year  or  more  passed  before  the 
mysteries  of  this  wonderful  land  were  satis- 
factorily solved. 

"During  the  winter  of  1850-51,  I  was  at- 
tached to  an  expedition  that  made  the  first 
discovery  of  what  is  now  known  to  the  civilized 
world  as  Yosemite  Valley,  that  is  "not  only  won- 
derful in  depths  and  heights,  but  in  its  carved 
and  water-quarried  recesses  and  mountain  walls 
that  exhibit  new  beauties  in  every  receding  angle 
and  cloud-supporting  buttress/" 

A  band  of  Indians  under  a  shrewd  old  chief 
by  the  name  of  Ten-ie-ya  were  immediately  re- 
sponsible for  the  expeditions  that  led  to  the 
discovery  of  the  valley.  Located  in  the  fast- 
nesses of  the  stupendous  walls,  these  savages 
imagined  themselves  safe  from  pursuit  of  the 
white  man  and  proceeded  to  plunder  the  settlers 
who  lived  in  the  Merced  Valley.  The  expedition 
referred  to  above  resulted  in  the  surrender  of  the 
Indians,  who,  promising  good  behavior,  were 
allowed  to  return  with  their  chief  to  their  haunts 
in  the  valley.  It  was  hardly  a  year  afterwards, 
however,  before  they  were  at  their  old  tactics  and 
on  May  8,  1852,  they  murdered  a  party  of  pros- 
pectors who  entered  the  valley.  Another  expe- 

102 


THE  YOSEMITE 

dition  was  sent  against  them  which  resulted  in 
the  capture  and  execution  of  five  of  the  Indian 
braves.  The  great  majority  of  the  Yosemites, 
however,  escaped  to  the  hills  and  found  refuge 
among  the  Monos,  a  tribe  friendly  to  them. 
This,  however,  proved  their  complete  undoing, 
for  they  learned  of  a  troop  of  horses  which  the 
Monos  had  stolen  from  the  whites.  They 
immediately  planned  the  spoilation  of  their 
friends  and  pilfered  a  number  of  their  animals. 
While  gorging  themselves  on  one  of  the  horses 
which  they  had  killed,  the  Monos  descended 
upon  them  and  nearly  exterminated  the  tribe, 
including  Ten-ie-ya,  the  chief.  This  practically 
ended  the  Indian  troubles  in  Yosemite. 

The  first  tourist  party — if  we  may  style  it 
such — was  arranged  in  1855  by  Mr.  J.  M.  Hutch- 
ings,  whose  name  will  long  be  remembered  in 
connection  with  the  Yosemite.  There  were  only 
three  of  the  adventurers  in  all,  and  guided  by  an 
Indian,  they  saw  the  wonders  which  have  since 
become  so  famous.  Their  published  accounts 
were  received  with  some  incredulity,  though  in 
reality  they  were  rather  underdrawn.  Mr. 
Hutchings  was  so  pleased  with  the  surroundings 
that  he  eventually  made  his  home  in  this  valley 
and  later  on  became,  with  several  other  settlers 
the  occasion  of  much  legal  entanglement  as  the 

103 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

result  of  the  donation  of  the  Yosemite  to  the 
state  of  California  by  Act  of  Congress.  This 
act  took  no  account  of  the  rights  of  the  settlers 
who  had  made  their  home  in  the  valley  and  for 
a  time  they  were  threatened  with  ejectment. 
Mr.  Hutchings  made  a  trip  to  Washington  in 
their  interests  and  while  waiting  the  action  of 
Congress  did  much  to  spread  the  fame  of  the 
great  natural  wonder  by  delivering  no  less  than 
seventy-five  illustrated  lectures.  A  law  was 
eventually  enacted  for  the  relief  of  the  few 
people  who  had  made  their  homes  in  the  valley 
and  Mr.  Hutchings  continued  to  reside  there 
until  his  death,  which  was  caused  by  being 
thrown  from  a  mountain  wagon  in  1902.  He 
published  in  1888  a  large,  beautifully  illustrated 
volume,  "In  the  Heart  of  the  Sierras,"  which 
contains  much  interesting  historical  and  descrip- 
tive matter. 

As  Yosemite  and  the  big  tree  groves  in- 
creased in  popularity  with  tourists  yearly,  it  was 
rightly  concluded  that  the  National  Government 
should  properly  be  the  custodian  of  these  great 
natural  wonders  as  well  as  those  of  the  Yellow- 
stone Park.  Therefore,  in  1905  the  California 
Legislature  passed  an  act  receding  the  park  to 
the  United  States  Government.  This  covered 
only  the  original  tract  of  about  forty-eight  square 

104 


THE  YOSEMITE 

miles  which  had  been  given  to  California  in 
1860,  but  Congress  in  accepting  the  recession  in 
1906  created  a  great  park  of  fifteen  hundred 
square  miles.  This  included  the  big  tree  grove 
of  Mariposa  and  much  of  the  fine  forest  land  of 
the  country  surrounding  the  valley.  Improve- 
ments are  slowly  being  made  and  it  is  to  be  hoped 
that  the  National  Government  will  show  more 
liberality  in  appropriations  for  road  construction. 
The  Yosemite  Railroad  to  El  Portal  has  vastly 
increased  the  number  of  tourists,  which  now 
reaches  twelve  to  fifteen  thousand  annually.  An 
electric  road  from  Raymond  to  Wawona  is  pro- 
jected, which  would  make  the  big  trees  much 
easier  of  access  and  no  doubt  bring  tourists  in 
still  greater  numbers. 

Wild  animals  in  Yosemite  are  not  so 
numerous,  nor  are  the  different  species  so  well 
represented  as  in  Yellowstone.  Bears  are  not 
common,  despite  the  very  name,  Yosemite,  which 
signifies  "full  grown  grizzly."  Other  varieties 
are  occasionally  found,  though  they  are  not  so 
tame  as  the  Yellowstone  natives.  Deer  of  dif- 
ferent varieties  are  now  rarely  seen,  though 
under  present  restrictions  on  hunting  they  are 
increasing  in  numbers.  Squirrels,  chipmunks 
and  woodchucks  are  common  and  often  amuse 
the  tourist  by  their  fearless  antics. 

105 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

Snakes  are  found  in  all  parts  of  the  park. 
Our  guide  pointed  out  a  spot  where  he  had 
killed  a  rattler  a  day  or  two  before  on  Glacier 
Point  Trail.  They  are  not  common,  however, 
and  there  is  no  record  of  a  tourist  ever  having 
been  bitten.  Of  harmless  snakes  and  lizards 
there  are  many  varieties,  including  the  ugly  but 
innocuous  horned  toad. 

Birds  are  increasing  in  numbers,  but  not 
many  are  seen  by  the  casual  tourist.  Naturally 
the  shy  songsters  prefer  the  retired  woods  and  to 
see  them  one  would  have  to  linger  and  explore 
nooks  and  corners.  Water  fowl  often  come  in 
season  but  do  not  stay  long,  and  John  Muir 
relates  that  he  has  seen  wild  geese  exhaust 
themselves  by  evident  miscalculation  of  the 
height  of  the  cliffs  and  finally  leave  the  valley  by 
the  river  canyon.  Mountain  quail,  blue  grouse 
and  sage-cock  frequent  the  pines,  though  seldom 
on  the  routes  of  tourist  travel.  Of  songbirds 
there  are  the  endless  varieties  common  in  the 
California  land  of  sunshine,  the  robin,  thrush, 
finch  and  the  brilliant  oriole  being  the  oftenest 
heard.  Many  species  of  humming  birds  are 
found  among  the  flowers,  fairylike  creatures  with 
iridescent  plumage,  darting  about  like  sunbeams. 
Many  varieties  of  the  birds  nest  in  the  valley  in 

summertime  and  now  rear  their  young  in  corn- 
ice 


THE  YOSEMITE 

parative  safety,  the  predatory  animals  such  as 
the  coyote  and  skunk  having  been  nearly 
exterminated. 

Hunting  is  of  course  strictly  prohibited; 
firearms  are  not  even  allowed  in  the  park 
without  special  permit  from  the  authorities.  As 
a  result  of  this  wise  provision,  the  wild  animals 
and  birds  are  increasing  and  becoming  constantly 
less  shy.  Fishing  is  permitted  with  hook  and 
line  only  and  affords  very  good  sport  in  many  of 
the  streams. 

Yosemite  may  now  be  easily  reached  at  any 
time  of  the  year  and  a  local  writer  declares  that 
each  season  has  its  advantages.  "Yosemite  can 
be  visited  all  the  year  round,  and  each  season  has 
its  own  special  delights.  In  the  spring  the 
melting  snow  turns  the  streams  which  feed  the 
waterfalls  into  torrents,  and  the  down-rushing 
water  is  in  full  volume ;  on  every  side  are  rivulets, 
leaping  cascades  and  reverberating  waterfalls; 
in  the  summer  the  highest  trails  are  accessible, 
the  weather  is  delightful  and  the  whole  atmos- 
phere has  a  mellow,  golden  quality  that  at  once 
rests  and  invigorates;  in  the  autumn  the  air  is 
clear,  every  outline  and  wonderful  profile  of  rock 
and  crag,  of  giant  column  and  massive  dome, 
stands  out  as  though  etched  against  the  sky,  the 
leaves  are  gently  fading  through  a  myriad 

107 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

shades  of  green  and  red  and  bronze — it  is  the 
artist's  paradise  of  color;  and  in  winter,  with  the 
valley  floor  hidden  beneath  a  snowy  cover,  with 
red  snow  plants  thrusting  their  way  through  the 
white  surface  like  tongues  of  flame,  with  every 
tree  and  plant  drooping  gracefully  under  its 
wintry  burden,  with  marvelous  icicles,  like  great 
stalactites,  hanging  from  tower  and  pinnacle  and 
over-arching  rock,  who  shall  say  which  is  the 
best  time  to  visit  this  wondrous  garden  of  the 
Sierra?" 

But,  after  all,  if  one  can  choose  his  time,  the 
early  summer  is  no  doubt  best.  In  May  the 
streams  are  usually  at  high  tide,  but  some  of  the 
trails  are  likely  to  be  closed  by  snow.  By  the 
middle  of  June  these  will  be  open  and  a  consid- 
erable volume  of  water  still  coming  down  the 
falls.  But  if  one  can  plan  two  visits — certainly 
none  too  many  for  such  a  wonderland — let  him 
come  late  in  April  and  make  a  round  of  the 
valley  itself.  Then  he  will  see  the  riotous 
Merced  and  the  lofty  waterfalls  in  all  their 
power  and  glory.  Another  trip  late  in  July  or 
August  will  afford  a  better  opportunity  for 
mountain  climbing  and  visiting  the  great  trees. 
The  rush  of  the  tourist  season  will  then  be  over 
and  accommodations  will  average  better.  In 
the  springtime  the  air  will  be  cool  and  bracing 

108 


THE  YOSEMITE 

and  bring  wraps  in  demand,  while  in  late  summer 
the  heat  is  sometimes  intense.  Linen  dusters 
and  broad-brimmed  straw  hats  are  then  most 
serviceable,  and  in  no  case  should  one  forget  a 
pair  of  auto  goggles.  Without  these  the  eyes 
are  likely  to  suffer  much;  smoked  or  slightly 
tinted  glasses  are  best.  Old  clothes  that  one 
doesn't  care  for  are  most  serviceable,  since  any 
good  attire  would  speedily  be  the  worse  for 
mule-back  climbs  and  long  dusty  coach  rides. 
In  season,  during  May,  June  and  July  especially, 
transportation  facilities  are  likely  to  be  inade- 
quate and  hotels  and  camps  greatly  crowded,  so 
one  will  be  more  comfortable  if  careful  planning 
in  advance  is  done  and  reservations  definitely 
made. 


109 


The  Grand  Canyon 

i 

A  FIRST  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  GRAND  CANYON 

If  the  Yellowstone  leaves  a  predominating 
impression  of  weirdness  upon  the  mind — and  the 
Yosemite  of  beauty — what  shall  we  say  of  this 
vast  Arizonian  chasm  where  weirdness  strives 
with  beauty  for  the  mastery?  It  is  so  unlike 
anything  else  on  earth  that  the  most  hardened 
traveler  is  unprepared  for  its  revelations;  no- 
where else  has  he  seen — or  may  he  see — its 
match  for  strangeness  and  beauty  in  color  and 
form.  Here  the  Architect  Divine  planned  a 
succession  of  pyramids  and  palaces  of  over- 
whelming immensity  and  past  human  imagining 
in  their  ever-changing  riot  of  color.  Here  the 
artisans  of  the  ages,  fire  and  wind  and  flood, 
have  wrought  an  endless  array  of  gigantic  struct- 
ures which  no  mortal  mind  could  have  conceived 
and  no  mortal  hand  have  reared.  The  memory 
of  it  is  as  the  memory  of  some  splendid  but 
fantastic  dream  and  at  times  it  is  hard  to  con- 

110 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

vince  myself,  who  have  seen  with  my  own  eyes 
this  crowning  wonder  of  the  American  West  that 
it  has  existence  in  reality.  And  I  hesitate  to 
attempt  the  task  of  portraying  its  marvels  in 
words,  knowing  that  I  must  fail  as  all  before 
me  have  failed  to  a  greater  or  lesser  degree  to 
measure  up  to  the  grandeur  and  beauty  of  the 
scenes  I  would  describe.  But  I  shall  have  the 
great  advantage  of  supplementing  my  words 
with  Mr.  Moran's  splendid  pictures,  which 
perhaps  come  nearer  than  any  other  agency  to 
bringing  the  scenes  of  the  Grand  Canyon  to  the 
eyes  of  those  who  have  never  visited  it,  and  in 
this  particular,  at  least,  I  have  ample  warrant  for 
my  venture.  If  words  and  pictures  combine  to 
turn  the  feet  of  the  appreciative  American 
traveler  to  one  of  the  most  soul-inspiring  works 
of  Nature  in  our  own  land,  it  is  enough. 

The  California  Limited,  on  the  Santa  Fe  Trail, 
brings  us  early  to  Williams,  where  we  linger  an 
hour  or  two  about  the  Fra  Marcos,  an  inn  that 
gives  the  sensation  of  pleasant  surprise  that  the 
wayfayer  nearly  always  experiences  when  he 
first  becomes  the  guest  of  a  Fred  Harvey  hotel. 
It  is  a  long,  low  building  with  stuccoed  walls — 
a  monotone  of  friar's  gray  quite  in  keeping  with 
its  name,  and  it  has  a  pleasant  colonnade  front- 
ing directly  on  the  railway  tracks.  One  finds 

111 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

the  spacious  lobby  homelike  and  cheerful,  bright 
with  the  coloring  of  Navajo  rugs  and  Indian 
pottery;  the  private  rooms  are  immaculate  in 
their  cleanliness  and  supplied  with  every  con- 
venience, and  the  dining-room  service  measures 
up  to  the  famous  Harvey  standard.  There  is 
the  usual  curio  room  with  the  thousand  and  one 
trinkets  in  Mexican  jewelry  and  all  the  quaint 
and  charming  handiwork  of  the  aborigines  of  the 
Southwest.  It  is  a  pleasant  place  to  linger  about 
and  we  hear  with  little  concern  that  our  train  is 
to  be  an  hour  or  two  behind  schedule  in  leaving 
for  the  Canyon. 

And  when  it  does  leave  it  proceeds  rather 
slowly  through  a  wide  sunlit  plain,  pale  green 
from  recent  rains,  though  here  and  there  flaming 
with  the  crimson  and  golden  glory  of  strange 
wild  flowers.  There  is  in  the  sixty  miles  but 
little  of  diversity — no  hint  of  the  tremendous 
spectacle  that  is  shortly  to  greet  our  vision.  As 
we  approach  our  destination  we  enter  a  forest  of 
towering  pines,  amidst  which  stands  the  unpre- 
tentious station.  It  is  but  a  few  minutes'  walk 
to  the  hotel — for  we  have  elected  to  stop  at  the 
El  Tovar — and  as  we  enter  its  wide  rustic 
veranda  we  catch  a  fugitive  glimpse  of  a  vast 
red  and  purple  abysm — the  Grand  Canyon  of 

the  Colorado  River.     But  it  is  only  a  glimpse, 

112 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

and  we  hasten  into  the  hotel  to  attend  to  the 
necessary  formalities.  The  room  assigned  us 
opens  on  a  balcony  from  which  we  get  our  first 
extensive  view  of  the  Canyon,  which  lies  before 
us  clear  and  sharp  beneath  the  cloudless  noonday 
sky.  A  dozen  miles  away  the  opposite  rim  rises 
like  an  alabaster  wall  above  the  predominating 
reds  and  yellows  of  the  lower  strata. 

The  sweep  of  our  vision  covers  hundreds  of 
square  miles  of  the  Canyon — an  infinity  of  moun- 
tains, towers,  domes,  spires,  strange  temples  and 
palaces,  glowing  with  every  conceivable  color, 
all  marvelously  distinct  today,  distance  alone 
softening  the  outlines  with  a  thin  blue  haze. 
Words  can  not  give  any  adequate  idea  of  the 
immensity  of  the  chasm;  the  Canyon  of  the 
Yellowstone  might  lie  quite  unnoticed  among  a 
dozen  rivals;  Yosemite,  with  all  its  vastness, 
might  be  quite  lost  in  this  wilderness  of  cliffs  and 
peaks;  the  bulk  of  Mount  Washington  is  no 
greater  than  that  of  some  of  the  prismatic  hills 
that  rear  their  fantastic  shapes  in  yonder  abysm 
below  us.  All  our  previous  standards  of  com- 
parison must  be  revised;  we  have  seen  much  of 
the  world,  but  nothing  to  be  fitly  likened  to  this 
giant  gorge.  Who  would  think  the  vexed  river, 
seen  from  rare  points  of  vantage  on  the  rim  as  a 
fleck  of  dull  silver  in  the  wide  expanse  of  warmer 

113 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

coloring,  a  torrential  flood  almost  equal  in 
volume  to  the  Father  of  Waters?  It  is  hard 
indeed  to  form  a  true  conception  of  bulk  and  dis- 
tance, but  such  comparisons  may  assist  the  mind 
to  a  truer  appreciation  of  the  scene  that  at  first 
quite  overwhelms  it.  It  is  only  gradually  that 
the  individual  features  of  the  great  panorama 
come  out  before  one's  vision;  slowly  the  weird 
architectural  forms  take  shape  out  of  the  chaos 
that  at  first  confuses  you.  You  experience  a 
strange  feeling  of  familiarity  with  some  of  them 
— was  it  in  some  old  volume  of  fairy  tales,  some 
half-forgotten  story  of  India  or  Egypt  or  some 
well-fingered  copy  of  the  Arabian  Nights  that 
you  saw  the  prototypes  of  these  enchanted 
palaces?  Or  did  you,  perchance,  in  some 
previous  state  of  existence,  wander  among  such 
wondrous  forms — now  lingering  in  your  soul  as 
the  haziest  possible  memory?  And  when  you 
learn  the  fanciful  names  they  bear,  you  are  all 
the  more  confirmed  in  your  surmise.  Manu 
Temple,  Buddha  Temple,  Shiva  Temple,  Temple 
of  Sett,  Vishnu  Temple,  and  many  other  sugges- 
tive names  show  that  this  dim  sense  of 
semblance  to  strange  temples  of  the  Orient  has 
come  to  other  minds, than  yours. 

A  longing  comes  upon  you  to  descend  into 
the  vast  chasm,  to  gaze  on  its  many-colored  walls 

114 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

at  close  range,  and  to  look  upwards  to  the  stu- 
pendous forms  now  lying  so  far  beneath  your 
eye.  It  seems  an  almost  impossible  aspiration — 
where  may  one  find  foot-hold  among  these 
beetling  walls,  and  how  may  he  cross  those 
yawning  ravines?  But  it  may  be  accomplished 
easily  enough — the  hardy  pioneers  of  the  Canyon 
have  sought  out  several  practicable  trails  to  the 
river  and  considerable  work  has  been  expended 
to  make  these  fairly  safe,  though  none  of  them 
can  truthfully  be  described  as  easy.  The  trails 
are  fatiguing  at  best  and  hardly  to  be  recom- 
mended to  persons  with  much  tendency  to  nausea 
when  on  giddy  heights,  but  seldom  indeed  is 
there  dissent  to  the  proposition  that  the  fatigue 
of  a  descent  is  well  worth  while.  For,  indeed, 
to  appreciate  the  grandeur  and  matchless  magni- 
tude of  these  temples  and  palaces,  one  must  go 
down  among  them  and  look  upward  to  them 
from  the  depths ;  to  know  the  awful  majesty  and 
resistless  power  of  that  sullen  river  he  must 
stand  on  its  very  bank.  Missing  such  an  oppor- 
tunity is  not  to  be  thought  of. 

One  party  or  more,  as  the  case  may  be — for 
no  guide  is  given  more  than  ten  persons — is 
made  up  daily  for  the  descent  of  Bright  Angel 
Trail.  The  trip  may  terminate  at  Indian 
Garden,  only  four  miles  distant,  or  one  may  pro- 

115 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

ceed  as  much  farther,  either  to  a  wide  plateau 
overlooking  the  river — a  comparatively  easy  jog 
of  two  or  three  hours — or  he  may  lose  himself 
in  the  black  labyrinth  of  ravines,  and  trusting 
implicitly  to  the  knowledge  of  the  guide,  come  at 
last  to  the  very  brink  of  the  Colorado. 

We  are  soon  enrolled  in  the  first  trail  party 
to  leave  the  hotel  at  eight  in  the  morning  of  the 
following  day.  It  will  take  eight  or  nine  hours, 
they  tell  us,  to  make  the  return  trip  to  the  river. 
We  still  have  the  greater  part  of  the  afternoon  to 
while  away — our  train  was  several  hours  late 
and  the  trail  trip  is  out  of  question  today — 
and  we  are  urged  to  join  the  excursion  to  Hopi 
Point,  where  we  should  see  the  rarest  of  sunsets, 
for  the  day  has  been  cloudless  and  serene  and  the 
evening  promises  equally  fine.  It  is  a  drive  of 
only  four  miles  in  an  open  mountain  wagon  with 
much  beautiful  scenery  on  the  way.  The  road 
winds  among  tall  pines  and  ever  and  anon  the 
red  and  purple  glory  of  the  canyon  walls  flashes 
through  the  openings  between  the  stately  trunks. 
We  soon  find  ourselves  at  our  destination,  where 
we  dismount  in  order  to  reach  the  best  possible 
point  of  view  on  the  rim  of  the  Canyon. 

Not  elsewhere  on  this  planet  do  I  hope  to 
behold  a  scene  of  such  overpowering  grandeur 
so  softened  with  ethereal  beauty  as  that  which 

116 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

greets  my  eyes  from  Hopi  Point.  We  have 
come  at  the  hour  when  the  wide  expanse  of  the 
western  heavens  is  glowing  with  lucent  gold, 
and  a  marvelous  sunset,  flecked  with  crimson 
clouds,  is  flooding  the  wide  level  plain  to  the 
westward  with  blinding  radiance,  far  too 
splendid  for  any  words  of  mine.  And  if  the 
sunset  lends  to  the  characterless  plain  such 
unspeakable  glory,  who  may  even  imagine  the 
effect  of  the  golden  shafts  of  light  upon  the  mul- 
titude of  towers  and  spires  that  fill  the  vast 
depression  before  our  eyes?  It  touches  them 
with  burning  gold  and  flames  on  the  endless 
walls  of  alabaster  on  the  uttermost  margin  of 
the  abysm;  strange  lights  and  shadows  lurk  in 
the  valleys  and  ravines ;  amber,  purple,  deep  blue, 
seem  to  predominate  in  turn,  though  all  colors 
are  blending  and  changing  momentarily  as  the 
daylight  declines.  It  is  this  peculiar  evanescence 
that  impresses  you  most  when  you  view  the 
Canyon  under  any  condition  of  cloud  or  sunshine, 
mist  or  snow,  or  of  weird  moonlight.  There  is 
always  an  elusiveness  and  I  doubt  not  that  this 
strange  phenomenon  baffles  the  painter  when  he 
would  transfer  the  scenes  to  canvas — a  task  for 
which  even  the  master  of  them  all  has  confessed 
himself  quite  inadequate.  A  thousand  times  the 
scenes  seem  to  be  shifted  as  we  gaze  at  the 

117 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

titanic  panorama  in  the  fading  light  and  as  the 
night  settles  down  over  the  mighty  gorge,  its 
strangeness  deepens  and  the  predominating 
impression  of  beauty  which  has  reigned  in  the 
mind  of  the  beholder  gives  way  to  a  sense  of 
awful  mystery. 


118 


II 

DOWN  BRIGHT  ANGEL  TRAIL 

How  different  is  the  scene  when  the  day 
flames  out  again  and  all  the  warmth  and  color 
reappear  in  the  stupendous  deeps  of  the  great 
chasm.  We  are  early  astir,  for  our  party  is 
scheduled  to  leave  at  eight  o'clock  on  the  trail 
trip  to  the  river's  edge  some  eight  miles  from 
the  Canyon's  rim.  Bright  Angel  Trail,  which  is 
by  far  the  most  popular  of  the  narrow,  tortuous 
descents  into  the  Canyon,  takes  its  name  from 
the  creek  which  joins  the  Colorado  River  at  the 
lower  terminus  of  the  trail.  We  find  our  mules 
saddled  and  waiting;  they  are  assigned  to  us,  or 
we  to  them,  with  reference  to  their  size  and  our 
avoirdupois.  Most  of  the  animals  are  time-tried 
denizens  of  the  trails — sedate  and  sure-footed — 
and  would  probably  take  you  to  your  destination 
and  back  without  the  services  of  any  guide  at  all. 

Our  conductor  is  a  rather  breezy  young 
westerner,  with  sombrero  and  bandana  of  most 
approved  style,  and  evidently  with  no  mean 

119 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

opinion  of  himself.  He  rides  a  horse,  for  which 
he  evinces  all  the  western  ranger's  fondness,  and 
having  been  a  cavalryman  in  the  Spanish- Ameri- 
can War,  he  is  fully  at  home  in  the  saddle. 
Strictly  speaking,  he  is  captain  as  well  as  guide 
of  the  party,  and  it  is  his  duty  to  look  after  the 
welfare  of  his  charges  and  see  that  none  of  them 
unduly  exposes  himself.  He  has  a  fund  of  infor- 
mation and  a  number  of  stories  and  incidents 
concerning  the  Canyon  which  serve  to  enliven 
the  long  mule-back  ride. 

We  find  the  Bright  Angel  descent  far  more 
strenuous  than  the  Glacier  Point  trip  in  the 
Yosemite — more  difficult  by  odds  than  we  antici- 
pated. A  series  of  steep  zigzags,  often  winding 
along  the  verge  of  yawning  precipices,  makes 
one  shudder  as  he  thinks  of  the  results  of  a  single 
misstep — but  the  mules  do  not  make  missteps 
and  the  chapter  of  accidents  to  tourists  in  the 
Canyon  is  short  indeed.  The  descent  begins  at 
Bright  Angel  Inn,  a  half  mile  from  El  Tovar. 
Like  all  trails  to  the  Colorado,  it  is  more  or  less 
a  natural  pathway,  having  been  used  for  ages  by 
the  Indians,  though  in  places  it  has  been  rendered 
easier  and  safer  by  well-directed  work.  This  is 
especially  noticeable  for  the  first  half  mile,  where 
the  skill  of  the  engineer  is  plainly  evident.  The 

canyon  walls  are  almost  devoid  of  vegetation, 

120 


BRIGHT  ANGEL  TRAIL,  GRAND  CANYON 

From  the  Original  Painting  by  Thomas  Moran,  N.  A. 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

though  a  few  gnarled  and  stunted  pines  have 
found  foothold  and  coarse  grasses  and  cacti  with 
leaves  like  stilettos  appear  at  intervals.  As  we 
descend  and  are  able  to  view  the  strangely 
eroded  forms  from  a  lower  level,  the  resemblance 
to  architectural  structures  becomes  more  pro- 
nounced. Yonder  rises  Shiva  Temple,  the 
dominating  pile  of  Bright  Angel  Trail,  wonder- 
fully symmetrical  in  form — an  oriental  palace  of 
gigantic  dimensions  built  of  intricately  carved 
stone  and  surmounted  by  a  pinnacled  dome  of 
light  yellow.  Truly,  it  seems  as  if  one  might 
enter  its  awful  portals  and  come  into  the  hall  of 
some  potentate  of  giant  stature  amidst  surround- 
ings of  barbaric  splendor,  a  fit  ruler  for  the 
enchanted  land  in  which  we  sojourn  today.  The 
trail  descends  rather  sharply  until  it  passes  the 
red  sandstone  strata;  when  it  enters  "Boulder 
Bed"  it  becomes  comparatively  easy  and  sighs  of 
relief  from  the  party  are  not  uncommon.  For 
the  next  mile  we  wind  among  huge  blocks  of 
stone,  strangely  fantastic  in  contour  and  color, 
which  at  some  remote  period  have  tumbled  from 
the  canyon  walls.  Here  the  ground  is  clothed 
with  verdure  and,  in  season,  starred  with  wild 
flowers  among  which  dart  the  lithe,  brightly 
colored  lizards  and  swifts.  We  can  breathe 

easier    now    and    contemplate    the    marvelous 

121 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

scenery  without  the  anxiety  that  forced  itself 
upon  us  when  we  rode  along  the  edge  of  precipi- 
tous slopes. 

There  is  a  refreshing  midway  pause  at  Indian 
Garden,  where  we  may  drink  and  fill  our  can- 
teens from  the  clear  stream  whose  waters  give 
life  to  the  little  garden  which  has  been  planted 
by  the  family  living  in  the  cottage  near  at  hand. 
Some  years  ago  a  stone  structure  to  be  used  as 
an  inn  was  begun  here,  but  it  was  never  finished 
and  fell  into  ruin;  one  would  think  it  would  not 
have  lacked  guests — it  would  indeed  be  a  rare 
experience  to  pass  the  night  amidst  such  sur- 
roundings. 

After  a  few  minutes'  rest  at  this  pleasant 
spot,  we  are  again  in  the  saddle,  but  our  party 
divides.  Some  prefer  the  trip  to  Indian  Garden 
Plateau,  where  by  an  easy  route  one  may  indeed 
come  to  the  river  bank,  but  it  is  a  bank  some 
thousands  of  feet  above  the  stream  itself.  But 
most  of  us  decide  in  favor  of  the  far  more  stren- 
uous trail  which  leads  through  an  interminable 
labyrinth  of  granite-walled  ravines  to  the  very 
margin  of  the  untamable  Colorado.  The 
rugged  walls  shut  out  the  view  much  of  the 
time,  though  through  occasional  openings  there 
are  still  glimpses  of  the  vast  blood-red  palaces 

that  now  tower  far  above  us  sharp  against  the 

122 


A  BRIGHT  ANGEL  TRAIL  PARTY— GRAND  CANYON 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

sky.  Our  path  follows  the  graveled  beds  where 
the  torrents  pour  towards  the  river  when  heavy 
rains  fall ;  but  the  courses  are  now  nearly  dry  and 
marked  by  mere  trickling  streams.  At  times 
our  path  seems  to  end  abruptly  against  a  black 
insurmountable  wall — but  our  guide  turns  into  a 
narrow  defile  that  leads  on  still  downward — 
downward.  There  are  places  where  the  path 
clings  precariously  to  the  side  of  a  cliff,  rising 
hundreds  of  feet  above  and  dropping  as  many 
hundreds  sheer  below  us.  And  worst  of  all  is 
the  Devil's  Corkscrew — for  his  satanic  majesty 
has  almost  as  many  possessions  in  the  Grand 
Canyon  as  in  the  Yellowstone;  we  do  not 
hear  so  much  of  him  in  the  elysian  vale  of  the 
Yosemite,  thank  heaven.  But  the  Corkscrew  is 
rightly  named,  whether  the  devil  has  aught  to  do 
with  it  or  not.  Our  guide  calls  to  us  to  dis- 
mount. No  one  is  permitted  to  ride  down  this 
frightful  natural  winding  stair,  which  carries  us 
almost  two  hundred  feet  nearer  the  level  of  the 
mysterious  river  which  we  are  seeking.  We 
have  left  the  zone  of  brilliant  colors;  far  above 
us  it  coruscates  and  flames  against  the  turquois 
sky.  Our  devious  path  now  winds  among  moun- 
tainous cliffs  of  igneous  granite,  black  and 
forbidding,  a  perfect  labyrinth  where  the  novice 
might  be  hopelessly  lost. 

123 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

At  last  comes  the  order  to  dismount,  the 
mules  are  tethered,  and  rounding  a  granite  cliff 
we  find  ourselves  on  the  shores  of  the  vexed 
torrent  which  in  countless  ages  has  wrought  the 
wonderland  through  which  it  courses.  Its 
waters  are  turbid  and  foam-crested  and  the 
granite  precipices  resound  with  its  sullen  roar. 
The  opposite  shore  seems  no  more  than  a  stone's 
throw  away,  but  the  missile  hurled  by  the  most 
dextrous  of  our  party  falls  in  midstream — in 
such  stupendous  surroundings  one  is  deceived  as 
to  the  river's  width.  We  gaze  at  its  whirling 
waters  with  a  strange  fascination — there  is  in- 
deed no  match  for  the  Colorado  among  the 
greater  rivers  of  the  world.  Other  great  streams 
are  the  friendly  servants  of  man,  affording  him 
means  of  travel  and  patiently  bearing  his 
burdens.  How  different  the  demon  torrent  that 
writhes  before  us — almost  inaccessible  to  man, 
it  resists  and  defies  his  puny  efforts  to  subdue 
its  somber  waters.  The  most  intrepid  explorers 
alone  have  ridden  its  angry  waves  and  they 
traversed  its  tortuous  course  only  with  unparal- 
leled danger  and  fatigue.  Its  waters  are 
surcharged  with  sand  and  are  almost  as  turbid 
as  those  of  the  Mad  Missouri;  there  is  nowhere 
the  crystal  and  emerald  glory  of  the  Yellow- 
stone. It  is  hemmed  in  by  solid  walls  of  black 

124 


THE  INNER  GORGE,  GRAND  CANYON 
From  the  Original  Painting  by  Thomas  Moran,  N.  A. 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

granite  and  it  rushes  over  a  bed  of  the  same 
material  so  hard  that  erosion  now  proceeds  but 
slowly,  despite  the  awful  force  of  the  torrent. 
Here  and  there  the  waters  swirl  and  eddy  around 
huge  boulders,  which  in  some  remote  time  have 
plunged  down  from  the  towering  cliffs. 

We  hardly  need  the  reminder  from  our 
guide  that  the  hotel  people  have  provided  a 
picnic  luncheon  for  the  party — we  are  fully  ready 
for  the  substantial  fare  which  the  lunch  boxes 
contain.  Water  is  dipped  from  the  river,  and 
despite  its  somewhat  forbidding  appearance,  it 
proves  very  drinkable,  for  the  sand  settles  almost 
instantly. 

In  an  hour  our  return  trip  begins.  Our 
mules  have  patiently  awaited  us  and  eagerly 
begin  the  upward  climb,  for  they  are  given  no 
feed  during  the  trip.  But  their  zeal  gradually 
flags  under  the  strenuous  work  and  long  before 
the  end  is  reached  they  are  allowed  frequent 
pauses  for  rest  and  no  little  urging  becomes 
necessary.  We  dismount  both  for  the  Cork- 
screw and  Jacob's  Ladder,  and  before  we  reach 
our  destination  we  are  quite  as  weary  as  the 
animals  themselves.  We  cast  many  longing 
glances  at  the  flag  floating  above  the  rim,  a 
crimson  speck  against  the  evening  sky,  marking 
the  goal  of  our  earnest  desire — our  comfortable 

125 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

inn.  But  our  weariness  of  the  flesh  does  not 
wholly  distract  our  attention  from  our  sur- 
roundings, which  present  many  new  and 
pleasing  aspects  in  the  course  of  our  ascent.  Our 
guide  points  out  against  the  face  of  an  almost 
perpendicular  wall  piles  of  rude  masonry,  once 
the  abode  of  prehistoric  cliff-dwellers.  It  was 
probably  before  the  Christian  Era  that  these 
strange  beings  reared  their  rude  homes  in  that 
inaccessible  spot — a  retreat,  no  doubt,  from 
enemies  whom  they  were  too  weak  to  meet  in 
open  combat.  Holes  were  hollowed  in  the  face 
of  the  cliff  and  walls  of  heavy  stones  were  built 
between  these  dens  and  the  yawning  precipice 
beneath.  A  difficult  and  devious  trail  led  to  the 
dizzy  retreat,  known  probably  only  to  the  people 
who  occupied  these  strange  homes.  No  traces 
of  human  occupation  now  remain  except  occa- 
sional flint  arrowheads  and  shards  of  pottery. 
The  upward  "trek"  seems  well-nigh  inter- 
minable, though  in  hours  it  is  no  longer  than 
the  descent.  It  is  with  a  sigh  of  relief  that  we 
tumble  from  our  mounts  as  best  we  may  and  limp 
painfully  to  the  hotel.  A  warm  bath,  however, 
and  change  of  raiment  work  wonders,  and  over 
the  polished  silver  and  white  linen  of  the  El 
Tovar  one's  hardships  begin  to  fade  into  a  host 
of  pleasant  recollections. 

126 


Ill 

AT  THE  EL  TOVAR 

After  dinner  everyone  responds  to  the  invi- 
tation to  witness  an  Indian  dance  at  the  Hopi 
House,  which  is  an  exact  reproduction  of  a 
native  pueblo,  situated  a  short  distance  from  the 
hotel.  Before  the  performance  begins  the 
aborigines  shrewdly  allow  the  guests  plenty  of 
time  to  look  about  the  house  and  make  such  pur- 
chases as  they  may  elect  from  the  thousand  and 
one  articles  offered  for  sale.  There  are  Navajo 
rugs  in  bright  and  somber  colors,  Indian  pottery 
and  baskets  in  quaint  but  often  artistic  designs, 
furs,  native  weapons  and  trinkets,  Mexican  fili- 
gree work  in  gold  and  silver  and  souvenirs  galore 
in  great  variety  and  at  all  prices.  There  is  also 
exhibited  a  fine  collection  of  articles  of  native 
manufacture  which  was  the  property  of  Fred 
Harvey  and  which  includes  many  individual 
pieces — especially  in  rugs  and  baskets — of  great 
value.  In  one  of  the  rooms  a  Hopi  woman  was 
busily  at  work  weaving  a  rug  at  her  crude  loom, 

127 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

thus  affording  an  example  of  the  slow  and  labor- 
ious process  by  which  these  fabrics  are  produced. 

Suddenly  the  weird  tattoo  of  the  Indian 
drums  signalled  that  the  promised  dance  was  to 
begin.  ,  A  couple  of  slovenly  bucks  shuffled  out 
to  the  center  of  the  floor  and  began  a  character- 
istic native  dance,  accompanying  their  uncouth 
movements  with  a  series  of  yelps  and  groans. 
They  were  clad  in  dirty  woolen  shirts  and  buck- 
skin trousers,  the  latter  hanging  so  loosely  as  to 
appear  in  constant  danger  of  dropping  off. 
However,  no  such  catastrophe  happened  and  the 
end  of  the  dance  was  the  occasion  for  a  collection 
taken  by  a  small  aborigine.  And  this  same 
diminutive  native  proved  a  star  performer  him- 
self; though  a  mite  of  only  two  or  three  years, 
as  a  dancer  he  was  a  far  greater  hit  with  the 
onlookers  than  were  his  elders,  and  his  efforts 
were  greeted  with  a  shower  of  nickels  and  dimes. 
The  dancers  continued  their  gyrations  until  the 
contributions  finally  failed  and  it  was  thereupon 
intimated  that  the  evening's  entertainment  was 
closed. 

Just  outside  the  Hopi  House  are  several 

/       native  dwellings  or  hogans,  as  they  are  usually 

styled,  queer  semi-spherical  structures  of  adobe 

and  stones,  about  a  dozen  feet  in  diameter  and 

six  or  seven  in  extreme  height.     A  semi-circular 

128 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

hole  through  which  the  occupants  crawl  serves 
as  a  doorway.  There  are  no  chimneys,  the 
smoke  finding  its  way  through  a  small  aperture 
in  the  top.  In  appearance  and  construction 
these  odd  primitive  dwellings  closely  resemble 
the  "igloos"  of  the  Esquimaux,  except  that  in 
the  former  "adobe"  takes  the  place  of  snow. 

As  we  return  to  the  hotel  we  pause  to  again 
contemplate  the  mysterious  deeps  of  the  weird 
chasm  where  ghostly  forms  and  dark  shadows 
seem  to  struggle  with  the  fitful  moonbeams — 
and  behold  another  phase  of  its  ever-changing 
and  indescribable  beauty. 

The  El  Tovar  is  brilliant  with  myriads  of 
electric  lights,,  for  this  unique  palace  in  the 
wilderness  has  every  modern  improvement  and 
convenience.  It  is  a  somewhat  rambling  build- 
ing of  huge  proportions,  constructed  of  native 
logs  and  boulders,  though  the  plan  is  hardly  so 
happily  conceived  or  so  well  carried  out  as  that 
of  the  Old  Faithful  Inn  in  the  Yellowstone. 
Perhaps  it  has  less  of  the  genuine  atmosphere  of 
the  wild  about  it.  It  is  named  in  honor  of 
the  old-time  Spanish  conquistador,  Don  Pedro 
del  Tovar,  whose  memory  is  linked  with  the  dis- 
covery of  the  Grand  Canyon  by  Coronado's 
soldiers  in  1540 — in  1540!  Strange  indeed  that 
this  remote  marvel,  so  far  inland,  should  have 

129 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

been  seen  by  white  men  within  fifty  years  after 
the  discovery  of  America!  There  are  few  more 
magnificently  situated  hotels  in  the  world,  the 
mighty  pines  of  the  Coconino  Forest  sweeping 
away  to  the  rear  and  directly  in  front,  in  plain 
view  from  the  spacious  veranda  and  from  many 
of  the  rooms,  the  weird  glories  of  the  Canyon. 

And  it  has  the  Harvey  service,  which  means 
that  its  cuisine  is  unexceptionable,  for  in  the 
Southwest  the  name  Harvey  has  become  synony- 
mous with  excellence.  The  founder  of  the 
Harvey  system  of  hotels  and  eating  houses  is  no 
longer  living,  but  his  spirit  still  pervades  his 
institutions,  and  just  how  exacting  that  spirit 
was  is  well  illustrated  by  an  incident  related 
by  a  lady  who  once  acted  as  stenographer 
for  Fred  Harvey  himself.  She  said  it  was  his 
custom  to  visit  his  dining-rooms  wearing  a 
newly  laundered  pair  of  white  gloves  and  to  pass 
his  hands  over  the  sideboards  and  tables.  Even 
the  window-sills  and  casings  underwent  similar 
tests  and  woe  to  the  responsible  parties  if  the 
white  gloves  showed  traces  of  dust ! 

The  El  Tovar  dining-room  is  of  huge  pro- 
portions— a  rustic  hall  some  forty  by  ninety  feet 
with  massive  log-trussed  ceiling  and  two  capa- 
cious stone  fireplaces.  If  fortunate  enough  to 
secure  a  table  near  one  of  the  large  windows  the 

130 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

guest  may  regale  himself  with  a  panorama  of  the 
Canyon  as  well  as  the  appetizing  bill-of-fare. 

It  is  not  strange  that  the  Grand  Canyon 
country  has  been  the  mecca  of  many  artists,  and 
it  is  therefore  appropriate  that  the  El  Tovar 
should  have  a  picture  gallery  with  many  excellent 
paintings  of  local  scenery.  In  the  rotunda 
hangs  an  original  by  Mr.  Moran,  one  of  his  most 
important  canvases,  and  somewhat  similar  in 
composition  to  "Mist  After  Rain,"  which  adorns 
this  book.  Mr.  Moran's  name  is  familiar  to  the 
hotel  people,  for  he  has  been  a  frequent  guest, 
though  much  of  his  work  was  done  here  before 
the  day  of  the  El  Tovar.  He  came  hither  in  the 
days  of  the  stagecoach  and  made  journeys,  often 
tedious  and  wearisome,  to  all  the  more  pictur- 
esque points  of  the  Canyon.  His  own  words 
concerning  the  great  natural  wonder  which  he 
has  done  so  much  to  bring  to  the  eyes  of  his 
fellow-countrymen  may  be  fitly  given  here. 
Following  an  earnest  appeal  for  "Nationalism  in 
Art,"  in  which  he  shows  the  opportunities 
afforded  the  American  painter  by  the  scenery  of 
the  Great  West,  he  continues: 

"On  a  recent  visit  to  the  Grand  Canyon  of 
Arizona,  I  was  more  than  ever  convinced  that 
the  future  of  American  art  lies  in  being  true  to 
our  country,  in  the  interpretation  of  that  beau- 

131 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

tiful  and  glorious  scenery  with  which  nature  has 
so  lavishly  endowed  our  land. 

"My  chief  desire  is  to  call  the  attention  of 
American  landscape  painters  to  the  unlimited 
field  for  the  exercise  of  their  talents  to  be  found 
in  this  enchanting  southwestern  country;  a 
country  flooded  with  color  and  picturesqueness, 
offering  everything  to  inspire  the  artist  and 
stimulate  him  to  the  production  of  works  of 
lasting  interest  and  value. 

"This  Grand  Canyon  of  Arizona,  and  all 
the  country  surrounding  it,  offers  a  new  and 
comparatively  untrodden  field  for  pictorial  inter- 
pretation, and  only  awaits  the  men  of  original 
thoughts  and  ideas  to  prove  to  their  countrymen 
that  we  possess  a  land  of  beauty  and  grandeur 
with  which  no  other  can  compare.  The  pastoral 
painter,  the  painter  of  picturesque  genre,  the 
imaginative  and  dramatic  landscapist  are  here 
offered  all  that  can  delight  the  eye  or  stir  the 
imagination  and  emotions. 

"With  truth  and  perceptions  of  a  poet,  Mr. 
Higgins  has  described  the  Canyon  as  'An  inferno 
swathed  in  soft  celestial  fires,  unflinchingly  real, 
yet  spectral  as  a  dream.  It  is  the  soul  of  Michael 
Angelo  and  of  Beethoven.' 

"Its  forests  of  cedar  and  pine  interspersed 
with  aspens  and  dwarfish  oak  are  weird  in 

132 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

the  extreme;  its  tremendous  architecture  fills 
one  with  wonder  and  admiration,  and  its  color, 
forms  and  atmosphere  are  so  ravishingly  beau- 
tiful that,  however  well  traveled  one  may  be,  a 
new  world  is  opened  to  him  when  he  gazes  into 
the  Grand  Canyon  of  Arizona." 

It  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  such  a 
stirring  appeal  should  pass  unheeded,  and  as  a 
consequence  the  Canyon  region  is  being  increas- 
ingly frequented  by  painters  of  note;  George 
Innes,  Jr.,  Elliott  Daingerfield,  Edward  Pott- 
hast,  DeWitt  Parshall,  the  late  G.  H.  McCord, 
and  other  distinguished  representatives  of  Amer- 
ican art  have  been  among  the  visitors  of  late 
years.  Perhaps  from  among  these  pilgrims  of 
brush  and  palette  may  come  forth  a  fit  successor 
to  the  master  who  first  brought  to  the  eyes  of  the 
world  the  marvels  of  color  and  form  that  exist 
in  this  enchanted  land. 

We  find  ourselves  loath  to  leave  this  region 
of  beauty  and  wonder — we  know  that  at  best  we 
have  had  but  a  passing  glimpse  of  its  glory;  a 
sojourn  of  many  months  would  not  suffice  to 
visit  the  accessible  points  of  interest  or  to  witness 
all  of  the  innumerable  phases  of  beauty  conse- 
quent upon  the  mutations  of  the  seasons  and  the 
weather.  Much  of  the  grandest  scenery  of  the 

133 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

region  is  some  distance  from  El  Tovar.  Of  the 
Virgin  River,  more  than  a  hundred  miles  to  the 
southwest,  Thomas  Moran  writes : 

"The  Canyon  of  the  Rio  Virgin  is  without 
doubt  the  grandest  and  most  beautiful  of  all  the 
tributary  canyons  of  the  Colorado  River.  In 
the  walls  of  this  canyon  are  found  vast  amphi- 
theatres; titanic  pinnacles  rise  from  its  depth, 
exquisitely  storm-carved  and  painted  by  nature 
in  endless  variety  of  colors/'  And  this  is  only 
one  of  many  localities  well  worth  the  tourist's 
while,  but  only  to  be  reached  by  slow  methods 
of  transportation  requiring  time  and  patience 
and  often  entailing  not  a  little  fatigue  and  incon- 
venience. As  a  member  of  a  congenial  party, 
with  guides  and  camping  outfit,  one  would  no 
doubt  secure  the  ideal  method  by  which  to 
explore  the  less  frequented  spots  of  the  canyon 
region.  Such  excursions  may  be  arranged  for  at 
El  Tovar,  since  it  would  hardly  be  practicable  for 
the  tourist  to  supply  his  own  equipment. 


134 


IV 

THE  DISCOVERY  AND  EXPLORATION 
OF  THE  CANYON 

The  history  of  the  connection  of  civilized 
man  with  the  Grand  Canyon  is  a  strange  one  and 
reads  like  the  pages  of  some  fanciful  romance. 
As  intimated  previously,  the  first  white  men  saw 
the  Canyon  in  1540,  when  Francisco  Vasquez  de 
Coronado  and  his  band  of  treasure-seeking 
Spaniards  stumbled  upon  it  in  their  search  for 
the  "Seven  Cities  of  Cibola."  Such  was  the  high 
sounding  title  by  which  they  designated  a  half 
dozen  wretched  Zuni  villages  which  rumor  had 
magnified  into  cities  of  great  wealth  and  magnifi- 
cence, where  the  gold-crazed  Spaniards  hoped 
to  repeat  the  scenes  of  plunder  and  rapine 
enacted  by  Cortez  in  Mexico.  The  great  chasm, 
with  its  mysterious  river,  interposed  an  impass- 
able barrier  in  their  path  and  they  turned  back- 
ward without  having  been  able  to  find  any 
descent  leading  to  the  shores  of  the  stream. 
Their  tales  of  the  awe-inspiring  spectacle  which 

135 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

they  had  beheld  were  received  incredulously  and 
gradually  faded  into  dim  tradition.  It  was  not 
until  1776  that  mention  is  again  made  of  the 
Canyon,  when  a  Spanish  priest  in  course  of  his 
wanderings  came  upon  it  and  found  a  practicable 
crossing  at  a  point  still  known  as  "Vado  de  los 
Padres."  In  the  next  eighty  years  an  occasional 
visit  is  chronicled,  but  it  was  not  until  1857  that 
an  official  expedition  under  Lieutenant  Ives  was 
despatched  to  the  Canyon.  The  establishment  of 
military  forts  in  New  Mexico  and  Utah  made  it 
desirable  to  use  the  Colorado  as  a  waterway,  and 
it  was  with  this  object  that  the  explorers  began 
their  voyage  at  the  river's  mouth.  They  had  a 
side-wheel  steamer  which  could  ascend  no 
farther  than  the  mouth  of  the  Virgin  River, 
where  it  became  clear  that  the  wild  waters  of 
the  Colorado  could  never  be  converted  into  an 
avenue  for  transportation  or  commerce. 

These  meager  annals  constitute  the  history 
of  the  explorations  of  the  Colorado  up  to  forty 
or  fifty  years  ago.  In  1869  Major  John  Wesley 
Powell  with  a  party  of  ten  devoted  followers 
undertook  to  traverse  the  entire  length  of  the 
Canyon  in  four  rowboats.  In  this  he  was  en- 
tirely successful,  covering  the  distance  of  about 
two  hundred  and  seventeen  miles  from  Green 
River  to  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  Virgin  in  thirty 

136 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

days.  The  story  of  this  voyage  reads  like  a 
romance;  it  seems  almost  impossible  that  such  a 
small  party  should  have  been  able  to  accomplish 
the  journey  in  the  frail  wooden  boats.  The 
river  was  an  absolutely  unknown  quantity;  the 
bold  explorers  were  in  constant  danger  of 
destruction,  not  knowing  what  moment  the 
boats  might  plunge  over  a  cataract  or  be  dashed 
to  pieces  in  some  raging  rapid.  The  undertak- 
ing met  with  words  of  discouragement  on  all 
sides  from  those  who  best  knew  the  Colorado; 
the  Indians  and  white  trappers  and  hunters  most 
familiar  with  the  Canyon  insisted  that  there 
were  dozens  of  rapids  where  no  boat  could 
possibly  live.  It  was  widely  believed  that  in 
many  places  the  river  disappeared  wholly  in 
tunnels  beneath  the  gigantic  cliffs  that  every- 
where overhang  it.  Nothing  daunted,  however, 
the  intrepid  explorers  set  about  their  appalling 
task.  Some  of  the  rapids  could  not  be  ridden  by 
the  boats  and  were  only  passed  by  the  laborious 
process  of  "portage" — carrying  the  boats  around 
the  rapid  or  fall.  In  all  there  are  about  six 
hundred  rapids  in  the  portion  of  the  Colorado 
covered  by  Powell's  voyage.  So  arduous  was 
the  trip  that  three  members  of  the  party  became 
dismayed  and  withdrew  from  the  expedition, 
despite  the  protest  of  their  comrades,  only  by 

137 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

some  strange  decree  of  fate  to  lose  their  lives  at 
the  hands  of  hostile  Indians,  while  their  com- 
panions completed  the  voyage  unscathed. 

The  first  trip  being  largely  of  an  experi- 
mental nature — to  prove  that  the  thing  could  be 
done  —  Powell  arranged  the  next  year  for  a 
second  expedition  to  take  more  accurate  obser- 
vations and  surveys.  He  piloted  a  party  of 
eleven  men  in  four  especially  constructed  row- 
boats  embodying  ideas  suggested  by  his 
experience  on  the  previous  voyage.  These  boats 
were  of  wood,  light  in  construction  and  so  built 
as  to  be  unsinkable  even  if  capsized.  Early  in 
the  voyage  one  of  the  boats  was  destroyed  in 
passing  a  rapid,  but  the  remaining  three  com- 
pleted the  trip.  More  time  was  consumed  in  this 
voyage  than  in  the  former,  the  party  exploring 
many  of  the  tributary  canyons  and  taking  accu- 
rate observations  on  the  topography  of  the 
region.  Powell,  who  possessed  the  soul  of  a 
poet  as  well  as  the  mind  of  a  man  of  science,  has 
written  much  of  the  grandeur  and  beauty  of  the 
scenery  which  he  witnessed  on  this  voyage,  and 
to  this  day  some  of  his  descriptions  remain  the 
best  that  have  been  penned.  Accompanying  him 
was  a  young  army  officer,  Capt.  Fred  S.  Dellen- 
baugh,  who  has  since  written  an  exhaustive 
book  fitly  styled,  "The  Romance  of  the  Colorado 

138 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

River" — and  indeed  it  is  a  romance  more  thrill- 
ing than  many  of  the  imagination.  Dellenbaugh 
was  an  artist  as  well  as  author  and  made  many 
paintings  and  sketches  of  the  scenery.  The 
party  also  took  a  large  number  of  photographs, 
which  averaged  remarkably  good  considering 
that  neither  the  dry  plate  nor  film  had  yet  come 
into  use  and  that  the  photographic  apparatus 
was  very  heavy  and  unwieldy. 

Powell  made  a  number  of  trips  to  various 
sections  of  the  Canyon  region  during  the  ten 
years  following  his  successful  voyages  down  the 
river,  and  added  much  to  our  geographical 
knowledge  of  the  Colorado  and  its  tributaries. 
He  says  in  one  of  his  works,  "Since  my  first  trip 
in  boats  many  others  have  essayed  to  follow  me, 
and  year  by  year  such  expeditions  have  met  with 
disaster;  some  hardy  adventurers  are  buried  on 
the  banks  of  the  Green  and  the  graves  of  others 
are  scattered  at  intervals  along  the  course  of  the 
Colorado." 

One  of  the  most  noted  of  these  expeditions 
was  that  of  1889,  in  which  Mr.  F.  M.  Brown  lost 
his  life.  He  was  the  president  of  a  railroad 
corporation  which  was  organized  with  the  idea 
of  building  a  road  through  the  Canyon.  It  was 
proposed  to  construct  this  road  from  Grand 
Junction,  Colorado,  following  the  course  of  the 

139 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

Colorado  River  through  the  Canyon  to  the  Gulf 
of  California,  a  distance  of  about  twelve  hundred 
miles.  It  was  thought  that  such  a  road  would 
be  profitable  in  supplying  the  Pacific  Coast  with 
coal,  but  the  discovery  of  an  abundant  supply  of 
that  mineral  in  the  Puget  Sound  region  did  away 
with  the  chief  motive  for  the  proposed  enterprise. 
Since  the  country  along  the  line  would  con- 
tribute very  little  support,  the  principal  source 
of  revenue  would  have  to  come  from  tourist 
travel,  which  at  present  would  be  manifestly 
insufficient  to  make  such  a  costly  undertaking 
profitable.  In  passing  through  the  Canyon  the 
road  would  have  to  be  at  least  one  hundred  feet 
above  low  water  to  avoid  the  floods  which  come 
very  suddenly  from  cloudbursts  in  this  region, 
and  much  of  the  way  the  track  would  have  to 
be  cut  in  the  sides  of  almost  perpendicular  cliffs. 
The  idea  of  building  the  road  was  not  abandoned, 
however,  upon  the  death  of  the  originator  of  the 
project,  which  was  styled  "The  Denver,  Colo- 
rado Canyon  and  Pacific  Railway  Company." 
A  year  later  a  well-equipped  party  of  engineers 
under  Lieutenant  R.  B.  Stanton  made  the  voyage 
down  the  river  and  completed  the  survey.  The 
start  was  made  on  the  10th  of  December  and  the 
Gulf  of  California  reached  the  following  April. 
From  his  own  words  one  may  best  gain  an  idea 

140 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

of  the  marvelous  scenery  and  exciting  adventure 
of  this  historic  trip : 

"It  has  been  the  fortune  of  but  few  to  travel 
along  the  bottom  of  the  great  chasm  for  a  whole 
winter,  while  around  you  bloom  the  sweet  wild 
flowers  and  southern  birds  sing  on  almost  every 
bush — and  at  the  same  time  far  above,  among 
the  upper  cliffs,  rage  and  roar  like  demons  in  the 
air  the  grandest  and  most  terrific  storms  of 
wind  and  snow  and  sleet  that  I  have  ever 
witnessed,  even  above  the  clouds  among  the 
summit  peaks  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

"To  be  imprisoned  between  the  great  tow- 
ering walls,  the  whole  upper  countrv  covered  with 
its  winter  mantle  of  inhospitable  snow,  which 
hanging  down  hundreds  of  feet  over  the  rim  and 
in  the  side  gorges  gives  warning  that  the  only 
way  of  escape  is  over  the  hundreds  of  fearful 
rapids,  falls  and  cataracts  below,  and  through 
the  only  open  gate  at  the  extreme  western  end; 
to  dash  into  and  over  the  huge  waves  at  the  head 
of  more  than  a  hundred  rapids  with  no  knowl- 
edge that  we  could  come  out  alive  at  the  lower 
end ;  to  toil,  to  rest,  to  eat,  to  sleep  for  weeks  and 
for  months  beside  the  everlasting  roar  of  that 
raging  torrent — was  an  experience  that  even  now 
brings  up  memories,  feelings  and  impressions 
that  would  require  volumes  to  relate. 

141 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

"On  our  second  expedition,  with  our  new 
boats,  we  ran  nearly  all  of  the  rapids  and 
portaged  but  few;  over  many  of  them  our  boats 
dashed  and  jumped  at  the  rate  of  fifteen  to 
thirty  miles  per  hour.  To  stand  in  the  bow  of 
one  of  these  boats  as  she  dashes  through  a  great 
rapid  with  first  the  bow  and  then  the  stern 
jumping  into  the  air  is  an  excitement  the  fasci- 
nation of  which  can  only  be  understood  through 
experience. 

"Starting  into  the  head  of  one  rapid  the 
speed  given  to  the  boat  by  the  oarsmen  to  gain 
steerageway  carried  us  over  the  first  and  second 
smooth  waves  so  fast  that  as  the  boat  rose  to  the 
top  of  the  last  it  had  not  time  to  turn  down,  but 
went  on,  up  and  up,  and  shot  clean  out  into  the 
air,  jumping  over  to  and  dropping  with  a  tre- 
mendous crash  upon  the  third  wave.  Again, 
while  going  over  another  fall  our  boat,  after 
passing  the  crest  of  the  second  wave  and  turning 
down,  did  not  rise  upon  the  third  wave  at  all  but 
dove  clearly  under  it,  filling  completely  with 
water,  but  thanks  to  its  ten  air-tight  compart- 
ments it  in  an  instant  rose  to  the  surface  and 
went  safely  through  the  whole  rapid. 

"In  the  last  section  are  some  of  the  worst 
and  most  powerful  rapids,  No.  465  being  per- 
haps the  worst  on  the  whole  river.  It  is  com- 

142 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

posed  of  three  falls,  in  all,  a  drop  of  thirty  feet. 
The  current,  turned  from  one  side  by  large 
bowlders,  dashes,  after  passing  over  the  first  fall, 
against  the  left  cliff,  just  at  the  head  of  the 
second  fall,  and  is  thrown  back  with  awful  force, 
and  as  it  meets  the  current  from  the  right  curls 
in  angry  waves  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  high,  first 
from  one  side  and  then  from  another.  From  this 
the  whole  current  is  thrown  against  the  right 
wall  as  it  curves  out  into  the  stream  just  at  the 
head  of  the  third  fall/'  (This  is  the  rapid  at 
which  Major  Powell's  three  men  left  him.) 

"It  took  but  a  few  moments  of  examination 
to  see  that  there  was  no  way  to  get  our  boats  or 
supplies  around  this  rapid.  It  must  be  run. 
There  was  no  hesitation.  Every  man  went  back 
to  the  boats  and  jumped  in.  They  were  soon 
ready  for  the  plunge. 

"In  a  moment  we  were  at  the  head  of  the 
first  fall  and  over  or  through  a  half  dozen  huge 
waves  and  approaching  the  second  fall.  As  I 
looked  down  into  that  pit  of  fury  I  wondered  if 
it  were  possible  for  our  boats  to  go  through  it 
and  come  out  whole.  I  had  no  time  for  a  second 
thought.  We  were  in  the  midst  of  the  breakers. 
They  lashed  at  first  one  side  and  then  the  other, 
breaking  far  above  our  heads  and  half  filled  our 
boat.  For  a  second  we  were  blinded  by  the 

143 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

dashing  muddy  water.  In  another  second  we 
were  through  and  out  and  right  side  up.  I 
turned  to  see  if  the  men  were  safe.  They  were 
all  in  their  places;  but  our  boats,  though  right 
side  up,  had  been  turned  quartering  with  the 
current,  and  we  were  being  carried  with  fearful 
force  toward  the  right  cliff.  Every  instant  I 
expected  to  be  dashed  against  the  cliff  ahead, 
where  the  whole  current  of  water  was  piled  up 
in  one  boiling  mass  against  the  solid  granite;  but 
just  as  I  felt  the  last  moment  had  come,  our 
sturdy  Scotch  helmsman,  Hislop,  gave  the  boat 
a  sudden  turn,  and  assisted  by  the  rebounding 
waves  we  went  by  the  cliff  and  I  shouted  to  the 
men :  'That's  good !  That's  good !  We  are  past/ 
But  the  words  were  hardly  out  of  my  mouth 
when  as  we  rounded  the  point  of  the  third  fall 
our  boat,  picked  up  bodily  by  a  powerful  side 
wave,  was  dashed  fully  ten  feet  to  the  right  and 
it  crashed  into  a  rock  which  projected  from  the 
shore,  and  stopped.  We  were  all  thrown  for- 
ward. The  boat  filled  with  water,  sank  upon 
the  rock  and  stuck  fast.  Wave  after  wave  in 
quick  succession  rolled  over  us.  I  tried  to 
straighten  myself  up,  when  a  great  wave  struck 
me  in  the  back  and  I  was  clear  out  of  the  boat 
into  a  whirlpool  below  the  rocks.  The  force  of 
the  blow  knocked  me  insensible  for  a  moment. 

144 


o 
u 


DC 

O 


s 


tf 

O 

o 
s 

o 

o 


THE  GRAND  CANYON 

But  as  I  was  drawn  down  the  water  closed 
around  my  head  and  my  consciousness  returned, 
and  as  I  was  carried  by  that  whirlpool  down, 
down,  down,  I  wondered  if  I  should  ever  reach 
the  bottom  of  the  river.  The  time  seemed  an 
age.  The  river  seemed  bottomless.  In  a  few 
moments  I  was  caught  as  by  two  forces — one 
around  my  legs  and  another  around  my  back — 
and  twisting  in  opposite  directions,  they  sent  me 
whirling  away  and  I  shot  to  the  surface  some 
fifty  feet  down  the  rapids  from  where  I  went  in. 
I  caught  my  breath  just  in  time  to  be  carried 
under  the  next  great  wave,  coming  out  again  in 
a  lighter  wave  at  the  lower  end  of  the  rapids. 
Thanks  to  my  cork  jacket  I  floated  high  above 
the  water,  but  was  carried  along  the  swiftest 
part  of  the  current  for  near  a  half  mile." 

Quite  enough  to  indicate  the  strenuous, 
dangerous  character  of  the  voyage — but  it  was 
not  without  reward.  What  an  experience  it 
was  to  pass  the  entire  length  of  that  stupendous 
gorge  and  to  view  its  marvelous  panoramas  of 
peaks  and  palaces  under  all  conditions  of  weather 
and  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night — to  see  the 
sunrise  flaming  upon  the  white  walls  that 
stretch  along  the  rim,  to  see  the  twilight  settle 
down,  weird  and  ghostly  over  the  gigantic 
temples,  to  see  the  moonlight  shed  its  silver 

145 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

radiance  over  the  enchanting  scenes — what 
grander  experience  could  the  human  soul  enjoy? 
But  the  railroad  remains  an  unfulfilled  pro- 
ject— though  Lieutenant  Stanton  expresses  the 
belief  that  it  will  one  day  become  a  reality. 
Then  and  then  only  may  the  average  man  and 
woman  have  the  opportunity  of  knowing  some- 
thing of  the  fantastic  beauty  that  greeted  the 
venturesome  explorers  in  their  hazardous  voy- 
ages down  the  wild  river. 


146 


OTHER  WONDERS  OF  THE  CANYON  REGION 

One  could  not  close  even  a  cursory  descrip- 
tion of  the  Grand  Canyon  without  some  refer- 
ence to  the  many  other  strange  phenomena  that 
exist  in  this  enchanted  region.  Among  these 
none  are  more  famous  than  the  petrified  forests 
of  Arizona,  three  of  which  are  to  be  found  in  the 
vicinity  of  Flagstaff.  These  may  be  reached 
from  Adamana  Station — in  fact,  the  forests  are 
Adamana's  reason  for  being.  The  first  forest  is 
about  six  miles  distant  from  the  station  and  the 
journey  may  be  made  in  a  leisurely  fashion  in 
three  or  four  hours,  allowing  time  for  inspec- 
tion of  the  Aztec  ruins  and  hieroglyphics  which 
are  passed  en  route.  In  this  forest  is  the  famous 
natural  log  bridge,  a  huge  trunk  of  jasper  and 
agate  spanning  a  chasm  sixty  feet  in  width, 
above  a  clear  tree-fringed  pool.  The  second  for- 
est, covering  about  two  thousand  acres,  is  two 
and  one-half  miles  due  south  of  the  first.  Here 
are  many  fine  trees  quite  intact,  among  them  the 

147 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

famous  "Twin  Sisters."  The  third  forest,  which 
is  of  far  greater  extent  than  the  others,  lies  about 
thirteen  miles  southwest  of  Adamana.  Here 
may  be  found  the  largest  specimens  of  petrified 
trees  in  existence,  some  of  them  being  seven  to 
nine  feet  in  diameter  and  more  than  two  hun- 
dred feet  in  length.  The  colorings  are  striking 
indeed,  every  tint  of  the  rainbow  glowing  in  the 
scattered,  broken  limbs  and  trunks,  while  other 
fragments  are  clear  as  crystal.  One  may  easily 
understand  as  he  views  these  coruscating  blocks 
of  stone,  why  this  forest  is  locally  known  as  the 
"Crystal"  and  "Rainbow"  Forest.  Besides  these 
is  the  Blue  Forest,  seven  miles  east  of  Adamana, 
which  is  noted  for  the  beautiful  blue  color  tones 
of  the  petrified  trunks.  This  was  but  recently 
discovered  by  John  Muir.  The  North  Sigillaria 
Forest,  in  the  same  vicinity,  is  peculiar  in  that 
many  of  the  tree  trunks  are  still  standing,  giv- 
ing a  remarkably  picturesque  effect. 

Geologists  have  advanced  many  theories  to 
account  for  these  remarkable  phenomena,  but  all 
are  agreed  that  at  some  remote  period  the  great 
forests  growing  in  this  region  were  inundated, 
perhaps  by  the  sea.  It  must  have  been  millions 
of  years  ago,  for  it  is  estimated  that  some  ten 
thousand  feet  of  rock  was  deposited  over  the 
trees  and  this  subsequently  was  eroded  clear 

148 


THE  GRAND   CANYON 

away,  bringing  the  long-buried  monarchs  of  the 
forest  again  to  the  light  of  day.  This  process 
was  well  described  by  Mr.  C.  A.  Higgins,  who 
wrote : 

"This  region  for  hundreds  of  square  miles 
was  once  sunk  so  low  the  ocean  overflowed  it; 
then  upheaved  so  high  the  brine  could  find  no 
footing.  Again  a  partial  depression  made  it  a 
vast  repository  of  rivers  that  drained  the  higher 
levels,  which  in  time  was  expelled  by  a  further 
upheaval.  During  the  periods  of  subsidence 
the  incoming  waters  deposited  sand  and  silt, 
which  time  hardened  to  rock.  But  in  periods  of 
upheaval  the  process  was  reversed  and  the  out- 
going waters  gnawed  the  mass  and  labored  con- 
stantly to  bear  it  away.  And  when  these 
ancient  logs  were  uncovered,  and,  like  so  many 
Van  Winkles,  they  awoke — but  from  a  sleep 
many  thousand  times  longer — to  the  sight  of  a 
world  that  had  forgotten  them,  lo!  the  sybaritic 
chemistry  of  nature  had  transformed  them  every 
one  into  chalcedony,  topaz,  onyx,  carnelian, 
agate  and  amethyst/' 

General  attention  was  first  attracted  to 
these  forests  by  the  exhibitions  at  the  Chicago 
World's  Fair  of  polished  slabs  and  huge  trunks 
of  agatized  trees  and  of  many  small  articles  made 
from  this  petrified  wood.  To  most  beholders  it 

149 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

was  a  distinct  revelation;  few  had  ever  heard  of 
this  strange  natural  phenomenon  and  many 
were  inclined  to  be  rather  incredulous.  Since 
then,  however,  the  forests  have  been  visited  by 
a  yearly  increasing  number  of  tourists,  and  the 
publication  of  numerous  magazine  articles  and 
books  have  made  them  fairly  familiar  to  nearly 
everyone.  But  even  yet  the  number  of  Ameri- 
cans who  actually  see  these  dead  and  buried 
forests  is  comparatively  small  indeed;  the  more 
to  be  regretted,  for  aside  from  its  weird  beauty, 
a  strange  human  interest  attaches  to  these  mas- 
sive trunks  transmuted  into  stone  eons  ago. 
What  race  of  men  knew  the  living  forest;  what 
strange  birds  flitted  among  its  swaying 
branches;  what  huge  monsters  browsed  and 
battled  in  its  shade;  what  cataclysm  finally 
brought  low  these  monarchs — stately  pine  and 
giant  oak?  Here  indeed  is  splendid  scope  for 
the  imagination.  Here  is  antiquity  that  makes 
Egypt  and  Babylon  seem  as  yesterday.  Here 
the  student,  the  philosopher,  and  the  poet  may 
each  find  much  to  instruct  and  inspire. 

Within  a  radius  of  eight  miles  from  Flag- 
staff may  be  found  the  most  important  ruins  of 
the  habitations  of  the  prehistoric  cliff-dwellers. 
These  have  the  greatest  attraction  for  the 
archeologist,  but  the  casual  tourist  is  also 

150 


THE   GRAND   CANYON 

interested  in  seeing  these  strange  homes  of  a  race 
whose  antiquity  probably  antedates  that  of  any 
other  of  which  we  have  relics  in  America.  A 
well-informed  writer  gives  the  following  inter- 
esting data  concerning  these  poor  remains  of  a 
long-forgotten  people: 

"On  the  southeast,  Walnut  Canyon  breaks 
the  plateau  for  a  distance  of  several  miles,  its 
walls  deeply  eroded  in  horizontal  lines.  In  these 
recesses,  floored  and  roofed  by  the  more  endur- 
ing strata,  the  cliff-dwellings  are  found  in  great 
number,  walled  up  on  the  front  and  sides  with 
rock  fragments  and  cement,  and  partitioned  into 
compartments.  Some  have  fallen  into  decay, 
only  portions  of  their  walls  remaining,  and  but 
a  narrow  shelf  of  the  once  broad  floor  of  solid 
rock  left  to  evidence  their  extreme  antiquity. 
Others  are  almost  wholly  intact,  having  stub- 
bornly resisted  the  weathering  of  time.  Noth- 
ing but  fragments  of  pottery  now  remain  of  the 
many  quaint  implements  and  trinkets  that  char- 
acterized these  dwellings  at  the  time  of  their 
discovery. 

"Fixed  like  swallows'  nests  upon  the  face 
of  a  precipice,  approachable  from  above  or  be- 
low only  by  deliberate  and  cautious  climbing, 
these  dwellings  have  the  appearance  of  fortified 
retreats  rather  than  habitual  abodes.  That  there 

151 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

was  a  time,  in  the  remote  past,  when  warlike 
peoples  of  mysterious  origin  passed  southward 
over  this  plateau,  is  generally  credited.  And 
the  existence  of  the  cliff-dwellings  is  ascribed  to 
the  exigencies  of  that  dark  period  when  the  in- 
habitants of  the  plateau,  unable  to  cope  with  the 
superior  energy,  intelligence  and  numbers  of  the 
descending  hordes,  devised  these  unassailable 
retreats.  All  their  quaintness  and  antiquity 
cannot  conceal  the  deep  pathos  of  their  being, 
for  tragedy  is  written  all  over  these  poor  hovels 
hung  between  earth  and  sky.  Their  builders 
hold  no  smallest  niche  in  recorded  history. 
Their  aspirations,  their  struggles  and  their  fate 
are  all  unwritten,  save  in  these  crumbling  stones, 
which  are  their  sole  monument  and  meager 
epitaph.  Here  once  they  dwelt.  They  left  no 
other  print  on  time. 

"At  an  equal  distance  to  the  north  of  Flag- 
staff, among  the  cinder-buried  cones,  is  one 
whose  summit  commands  a  wide-sweeping  view 
of  the  plain.  Upon  its  apex,  in  the  innumerable 
spout-holes  that  were  the  outlet  of  ancient  erup- 
tions, are  the  cave-dwellings,  around  many  of 
which  rude  stone  walls  still  stand.  The  story 
of  these  habitations  is  likewise  wholly  conject- 
ural. They  may  have  been  contemporary  with 
the  cliff-dwellings.  That  they  were  long  inhab- 

152 


THE   GRAND   CANYON 

ited  is  clearly  apparent.  Fragments  of  shattered 
pottery  lie  on  every  hand/' 

Meteorite  Mountain  is  another  natural 
phenomenon  of  the  region  of  great  interest  to 
the  man  of  science  and  the  layman  alike.  Here, 
it  is  believed,  a  meteor — almost  a  small  world  in 
dimensions — once  collided  with  Mother  Earth. 
The  theories  of  a  geologist  who  recently  made 
a  careful  study  of  this  remarkable  craterlike  hill- 
ock are  of  curious  interest.  He  writes : 

"The  mountain  is  about  two  hundred  feet 
high  and  there  are  a  few  stunted  pines  about  its 
forbidding-looking  slopes.  Going  to  the  top  of 
this  mountain,  over  huge  masses  of  strange- 
looking  rock,  one  will  find  a  great  depression, 
generally  called  the  crater,  though  there  is  no 
evidence  of  its  volcanic  formation.  This  crater 
is  a  huge  bowl  one  mile  across  and  six  hundred 
feet  deep.  The  winds  of  the  desert  have  blown 
much  sand  into  the  crater,  evidently  covering 
the  bottom  of  the  depression  to  a  depth  of  many 
feet.  There  is  a  level  space  of  about  forty  acres 
in  the  bottom  of  the  crater. 

"When  the  gigantic  meteor  fell  hissing  into 
the  earth,  if  it  ever  did  so,  the  concussion  must 
have  been  terrific.  And  in  this  connection  it  is 
interesting  to  note  that  the  Indians  nearby  have 
a  legend  about  a  huge  star  falling  out  of  the 

153 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

heavens  and  dazzling  the  tribe  with  its  bright- 
ness. Then  there  was  a  great  shock  and  sudden 
darkness,  and  ever  since  then  the  Indians  have 
regarded  Meteorite  Mountain  with  awe.  Some 
idea  of  the  action  of  the  meteorite  can  be 
obtained  by  throwing  a  stone  into  the  mud. 
When  the  meteorite  buried  itself  far  into  the 
earth  the  sides  were  heaved  up,  leaving  a  rim- 
like  circle  about  the  depression.  As  the  meteor- 
ite sank  into  the  earth  it  must  have  crushed 
layers  of  red  sandstone  and  limestone.  It  is 
believed  that  the  white  sand  found  in  the  crater 
and  on  the  sides  of  the  mountain  is  from  the 
sandstone  pulverized  by  the  meteor  in  its  de- 
scent. This  sand  was  blown  skyward  and  after- 
ward settled  down  on  the  mountain,  covering  it 
thickly.  No  sand  like  it  is  to  be  found  near  the 
mountain. 

"Men  searching  the  ground  surrounding 
the  mountain  for  a  distance  of  several  miles  find 
small  meteorites.  Several  qf  these  weigh  as 
much  as  one  thousand  pounds,  and  others  weigh 
only  a  fraction  of  an  ounce.  The  largest  pieces 
were  found  farthest  from  the  mountain.  These 
meteorites  have  been  proved  to  be  practically 
non-magnetic.  This  may  explain  why  the  im- 
mense body  of  iron  in  the  buried  meteor  has  not 
shown  any  magnetic  properties.  Needles  taken 

154 


THE   GRAND   CANYON 

to  the  mountain  have  not  shown  the  presence  of 
any  great  magnetic  attraction,  and  this  fact 
puzzled  scientists  until  it  was  ascertained  that 
the  fragments  found  near  the  mountain  did  not 
possess  magnetism. 

"Another  interesting  discovery  is  the  pres- 
ence of  what  is  called  'iron  shale'  near  the 
mountain.  These  are  fragments  of  burned  or 
'dead'  iron.  They  might  have  been  broken  from 
the  meteorite  at  the  time  of  the  terrific  impact, 
or  they  might  have  been  snapped  from  the  lar- 
ger body  owing  to  a  sudden  cooling  process. 
Inasmuch  as  the  Canyon  Diablo  country  was  at 
one  time  an  immense  inland  sea,  another  interest- 
ing theory  has  been  brought  forth — that  the 
meteor  fell  into  this  sea,  and  that  the  great  num- 
ber of  splinters  of  iron  in  the  neighborhood  were 
caused  by  the  sudden  cooling  of  the  molten  mass. 
It  has  been  discovered  that  these  small  meteor- 
ites contain  diamonds." 

Canyon  Diablo,  referred  to  by  this  writer,  is 
some  seven  miles  distant  from  Meteorite  Moun- 
tain. "It  is  a  profound  gash  in  the  plateau  some 
two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  deep  and  many  miles 
long.  It  has  the  appearance  of  a  volcanic  rent  in 
the  earth's  crust,  wedge-shaped  and  terraced  in 
bare  dun  rock  down  to  the  thread  of  a  stream 
that  trickles  through  the  notch.  It  is  one  of 

155 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

those  inconsequent  things  which  Arizona  is  fond 
of  displaying.  For  many  miles  you  are  bowled 
over  a  perfectly  level  plain,  and  the  train  crosses 
the  chasm  by  a  spider-web  bridge  two  hundred 
and  twenty-five  feet  high  and  six  hundred  feet 
long,  and  then  speeds  again  over  the  self-same 
placid  expanse.  In  the  darkness  of  night  one 
might  unexpectedly  step  off  into  its  void,  it  is 
so  entirely  unlocked  for." 

The  natives  of  this  region,  their  villages, 
customs,  superstitions,  traditions  and  handiwork 
have  much  of  curious  interest  to  the  average 
tourist,  though  owing  to  the  time  required  and 
rather  poor  accommodations  a  comparatively 
small  number  visit  the  Indian  Reservations. 
Some  of  the  towns  are  on  the  Santa  Fe  line — 
Laguna,  for  instance,  a  typical  pueblo  of  about 
one  thousand  inhabitants,  is  plainly  to  be  seen 
from  the  train.  The  natives  congregate  at  the 
station,  offering  baskets  and  brightly  colored 
pottery  to  the  souvenir-seeking:  tourist.  These 
articles  are  the  staple  manufactures  of  Laguna, 
and  Mr.  Moran's  picture  herewith  shows  a  group 
of  Indians  engaged  in  burning  pottery — the 
village  in  the  background.  The  whole  effect  is 
strangely  oriental,  the  white-walled  town  seem- 
ing more  suggestive  of  Palestine  than  of  the 
western  American  wilds. 

156 


THE   GRAND   CANYON 

Of  the  aborigines  in  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  the  Grand  Canyon,  the  Mokis  are  most  numer- 
ous and  interesting.  It  was  the  "Seven  Cities"  of 
this  tribe  that  the  early  Spanish  conquistadors 
were  seeking  when  they  stumbled  upon  the 
Colorado  River.  There  are  still  seven  villages 
in  existence,  though  they  are  not  identical  with 
the  Seven  Cities  of  Cibola,  whose  site  is  now 
believed  to  be  Zuni,  near  the  New  Mexican 
border.  The  Mokis  among  themselves  are  known 
as  the  Hopi  or  peaceful  people,  and  their  present 
appellation,  which  signifies  "the  Dead/'  recalls 
the  time  when  the  tribe  was  nearly  wiped  out  by 
the  ravages  of  smallpox.  The  tribe  offers 
peculiar  attraction  to  students  of  primitive  com- 
munities and  pagan  ceremonies  as  well  as  to  the 
artist  seeking  new  and  strange  material.  It  is 
only  more  recently  that  the  ordinary  tourist  has 
begun  to  visit  the  villages,  especially  during  the 
period  of  religious  festivities.  Of  these  the 
Moki  snake  dance  has  become  world-famous. 
This  is  a  ceremonial  prayer  for  rain,  the  snakes 
liberated  after  the  dance  being  supposed  to  carry 
the  petition  to  the  gods  of  the  under  world  who 
in  Moki  theology  have  charge  of  the  weather. 
During  the  dance  hundreds  of  reptiles,  many  of 
them  the  deadly  desert  rattlesnakes,  are  fear- 
lessly handled  by  the  performers.  To  the 

157 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

onlooker  it  seems  impossible  that  the  dancers 
can  escape  deadly  wounds,  but  no  instance  of 
such  injury  is  known.  The  opinion  of  scientific 
observers  is  that  the  Indians  avoid  danger  by 
their  extreme  dexterity  in  handling  the  reptiles, 
which  amounts  almost  to  sleight-of-hand.  It  is 
also  claimed  that  the  priests  possess  an  antidote 
for  snake  bite,  but  they  are  said  to  be  extremely 
reticent  on  this  subject.  Another  ceremony 
which  has  the  same  object  as  the  snake  dance — 
bringing  of  rain — is  the  flute  dance,  said  to  be  a 
really  poetic  conception,  with  picturesque  cos- 
tume and  ritual,  and  full  of  impressive  beauty. 
Visitors  are  apparently  welcome  at  these  strange 
ceremonies  and  no  attempt  is  made  to  turn  them 
into  money-making  schemes,  as  might  easily  be 
done  were  the  Indians  so  inclined. 

The  Moki  pueblos  are  perched  on  the  sum- 
mits of  lofty  mesas — a  defensive  measure  which 
in  early  days  rendered  them  quite  inaccessible 
to  their  enemies,  though  easier  paths  have  been 
constructed  in  recent  times.  No  doubt  the  in- 
stincts of  the  old  cliff-dweller  still  linger  in  the 
Moki — for  he  tenaciously  clings  to  the  old-time 
practice  of  building  his  villages  in  high  localities. 
The  women  from  long  usage  seem  to  think  it 
little  hardship  to  toil  up  the  steep  trails  with 
water  from  the  spring  below  and  the  men  return- 

158 


THE   GRAND   CANYON 

ing  from  their  fields  after  the  day's  work  take 
the  long  climb  as  a  matter  of  course.  The  Mokis 
are  industrious  and  thrifty,  orderly,  and  not 
without  a  certain  sense  of  humor.  They  hospi- 
tably receive  all  respectful  visitors  who  may 
come  at  any  time,  though  of  course  the  season 
of  the  strange  ceremonies  we  have  described 
attracts  the  greatest  number.  The  Santa  Fe 
Railway  has  published  a  very  interesting  book 
on  these  Indians  and  their  customs,  written  by 
Prof.  George  A.  Dorsey  of  the  Field  Columbian 
Museum,  who  has  been  a  close  student  of  the 
primitive  tribes  of  the  Southwest.  Another  very 
excellent  work  is  "North  Americans  of  Yester- 
day" by  Mr.  F.  S.  Dellenbaugh,  whose  book  on 
the  Colorado  River  we  have  already  referred  to. 

In  enumerating  the  marvels  of  the  Grand 
Canyon  region,  one  must  not  forget  the  San 
Francisco  Mountains,  whose  snow-capped  peaks 
rise  some  six  thousand  feet  above  Flagstaff,  or 
thirteen  thousand  feet  above  the  sea  level.  The 
summit  of  Humphrey's  Peak  may  be  reached  by 
a  ten-mile  horseback  ride — much  of  the  way 
through  a  park  of  magnificent  pines.  The 
gradient  is  easy  and  many  splendid  vistas  break 
on  one's  vision  in  course  of  the  ascent. 

The  view  from  Humphrey's  Peak  is  cele- 
brated as  one  of  the  noblest  on  earth.  It  covers 

159 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

a  territory,  distinctly  recognizable,  of  no  less 
than  thirty  thousand  square  miles — an  area  near 
the  average  of  that  of  the  States  of  the  Union. 
And  out  beyond  this,  beyond  the  definite  circle 
of  vision,  lie  leagues  of  soft  shadowy  contours 
of  hills  and  mountains.  Due  north  the  eye 
catches  a  warm  glow  of  color,  the  farther  wall 
of  the  Grand  Canyon  at  Bright  Angel  Amphi- 
theatre, fifty  miles  away,  and  above  this  Kaibab 
Plateau  and  Buckskin  Mountains,  some  forty 
miles  farther.  Two  hundred  miles  to  the  right 
rise  the  Navajo  Mountains  near  the  Colorado 
state  line.  To  the  northeast,  spread  out  like  a 
brightly-colored  canvas,  lies  the  Painted  Desert, 
glowing  with  every  hue  of  the  rainbow,  and 
beyond  this  the  Navajo  Reservation.  Still 
farther,  surprisingly  distinct  through  the  crys- 
tal-clear desert  air,  are  the  Moki  villages, 
perched  on  the  beetling  crags.  Eastward  a 
broad  desert  plateau  sweeps  away  to  the  Navajo 
Springs,  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles  distant, 
and  just  south  of  this  rise  the  ghostly  forms  of 
the  White  Mountains.  To  the  south  lies  Mogol- 
lon  Plateau,  starred  with  a  dozen  glittering 
lakes — so  unlocked  for  in  this  arid  land  that  one 
thinks  involuntarily  of  the  mirage — while  out 
beyond  these  the  dim  blue  forms  of  the  Four 
Peaks  and  Superstition  Mountains,  one  hundred 

160 


KAIBAB   PLATEAU 


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THE   GRAND   CANYON 

and  sixty  miles  distant,  are  silhouetted  against 
the  horizon.  The  Bradshaw  Mountains  are  one 
hundred  and  forty  miles  to  the  southwest; 
Granite,  near  Prescott,  one  hundred  miles,  and 
Juniper  Range,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles. 
Westward,  sweeping  over  arid  plains,  vision  is 
supposed  to  terminate  near  the  California 
boundary.  To  the  northwest,  beyond  the  Colo- 
rado River,  east  of  the  Nevada  line,  are  the 
Hurricane  Mountains,  so  distant  that  they 
shrink  to  purple  hillocks.  Near  at  hand  one 
sees  the  Coconino  Forest;  on  the  east  the  little 
Colorado,  traceable  by  its  fringe  of  cottonwoods ; 
beds  of  black  lava,  Sunset  and  Peachblow 
Craters — dark,  cinder-capped  cones;  Oak  Creek 
Canyon  and  the  Jerome  Smelter  Works  a  little 
to  the  southwest.  Just  beneath  one's  eye  lies 
the  picturesque,  clean-looking  town  of  Flagstaff, 
while  near  at  hand  rise  the  neighboring  moun- 
tains, Bill  Williams,  Sitgreaves,  Kendrick's  and 
the  over-mastering  bulk  of  San  Francisco  Peak. 
The  round  trip  to  the  Peak  is  generally 
accomplished  in  a  day,  but  one  may  arrange  to 
pass  the  night  upon  the  summit  if  determined 
in  advance — a  plan  that  affords  the  opportunity 
to  witness  the  glories  of  sunset  and  sunrise  from 
this  sublime  vantage  point. 


161 


Other  Wonders  of  the 
American  West 

I  am  well  aware  that  in  these  monographs 
concerning  the  Yellowstone,  the  Yosemite  and 
the  Grand  Canyon  I  have  given  by  no  means  an 
exhaustive  catalogue  of  the  wonders  of  the  great 
American  West.  To  go  into  detail  in  describing 
the  marvels  of  the  vast  section  of  our  country  of 
which  the  Rocky  Mountains  form  the  eastern 
boundary  would  require  many  volumes  even  if 
the  story  were  told  only  cursorily.  In  Colorado 
alone  there  is  a  world  of  beauty  and  grandeur. 
Pikes  Peak — the  American  Rigi;  the  Garden  01 
the  Gods — that  wonderland  of  wind-worn  stones 
which  take  a  thousand  fantastic  forms;  the 
Mountain  of  the  Holy  Cross,  with  its  solemn 
emblem  graven  in  the  eternal  snows;  the  Royal 
Gorge,  the  Tolte  Gorge,  Black  Canyon  and 
Grand  River  Canyon,  with  walls  rising  two 
thousand  feet  almost  sheer,  and  numberless 
other  natural  phenomena  not  less  interesting 

162 


TOLTE  GORGE,  COLORADO 
From  the  Original  Painting  by  Thomas  Moran,  N.  A. 


OTHER  WONDERS 

may  well  engage  the  attention  of  the  tourist. 

And  who  by  mere  words  can  convey  any 
hint  of  the  charm  of  the  land  of  flowers  and  sun- 
shine, California,  toward  which  our  longings 
turn  almost  whethef  we  will  or  no  and  where — 
some  time — we  hope  to  dwell  ourselves?  What 
save  our  senses  can  bring  any  true  realization 
of  the  languorous  beauty  and  awe-inspiring 
majesty  of  the  limitless  ocean,  whose  blue  waters 
ripple  over  golden  beaches  or  sparkle  under 
towering  cliffs  along  all  the  thousand  miles  of 
sinuous  coast  that  marks  our  western  boundary? 

As  for  myself,  I  can  find  no  words  to 
describe  the  mingled  feelings  that  the  sight  of 
the  Pacific  Ocean  never  fails  to  arouse  in  me. 
Indeed,  one  may  say  that  he  can  see  but  a  little 
of  the  ocean  at  one  time,  and  so  far  as  our  limited 
vision  goes,  the  Atlantic,  the  Mediterranean,  the 
Mexican  Gulf  or  the  Pacific  have  no  distinguish- 
ing marks.  And  yet,  what  a  different  sensation 
one  experiences  when  his  eyes  first  rest  upon  the 
"Lord  of  Waters,"  whose  blue,  foam-crested 
waves  wash  our  western  coast.  Perhaps  it  is 
due  to  the  ill-defined  conception  that  pervades 
the  soul  of  the  vastness  of  the  Pacific.  Eighty 
millions  of  square  miles — nearly  half  the  surface 
of  the  globe — is  covered  by  this  illimitable,  fath- 
omless sea,  which  rolls  in  solemn  majesty  from 

163 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

continent  to  continent  and  almost  from  pole  to 
pole.  If  one  knew  nothing  of  all  this,  the  Pacific 
might  excite  in  him  feelings  no  different  from 
those  aroused  when  gazing  upon  any  other  body 
of  water  extending  beyond  his  ken ;  but  who  can 
behold  the  blue  expanse  of  ocean  that  lies  beyond 
the  Golden  Gate,  and  feel  no  thrill  from  the  awe- 
inspiring  sense  of  inconceivable  vastness? 

The  Sunset  State  is  indeed  an  empire  of  it- 
self, a  wide  domain  of  fruitful  vales,  of  deadly 
deserts,  of  snow-clad  peaks,  of  titanic  forests, 
with  pretty  villages,  great  cities  and  thousands 
of  pleasant  resorts  that  fitly  make  it  a  nation's 
playground  as  well  as  a  home  for  its  own  favored 
people.  Long  Beach,  Santa  Barbara,  Santa 
Catalina,  Riverside,  Pasadena,  and  a  score  of 
other  seaside  and  inland  resort  towns  are 
famous,  but  to  my  mind  the  queen  of  them  all  is 
Monterey,  with  its  never-to-be-forgotten  Hotel 
Del  Monte.  Here  indeed  is  the  culmination  of 
all  the  glorious  color  and  languorous  delights  of 
the  Golden  State,  a  spot  that  may  match  Capri 
or  Sorrento  in  their  happiest  moods.  The  lovely 
little  bay,  the  beetling  cliffs  that  overhang  the 
deep  blue  waters,  the  great  sprawling  live  oaks, 
the  never-ending  riot  of  roses,  and  all  the  odor- 
ous and  beautiful  California  flowers,  are  only  a 
few  of  many  things  that  charm  the  fortunate 

164 


It 

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331 


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OTHER  WONDERS 

sojourner — doubly  fortunate  if  he  be  domiciled 
at  the  Del  Monte,  which  that  experienced  trav- 
eler, Dr.  Muirhead,  author  of  Baedeker's  Guides 
for  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  declares 
the  best  hotel  on  the  American  continent.  By 
the  "best,"  he  no  doubt  meant  the  most  com- 
fortable and  satisfactory,  as  well  as  the  most  de- 
lightfully situated,  for  it  seems  to  me  that 
these  words  best  describe  the  service  and  sur- 
roundings of  the  Del  Monte.  Its  gardens  are  a 
marvel  even  in  California,  the  land  of  flowers — 
"a  continual  feast  of  color,  solid  acres  of  roses, 
violets,  calla  lilies,  heliotrope,  narcissus,  tulips 
and  crocuses,  and  one  part,  known  as  'Arizona/ 
contains  a  wonderful  collection  of  cacti/'  The 
grounds  of  the  Del  Monte  reminded  Dr.  Muir- 
head of  some  of  the  splendid  parks  of  the  Eng- 
lish gentry,  save  that  even  England  is  no  match 
for  California  in  flowers.  I  refer  to  the  Del 
Monte  at  this  length  since  it  is  to  some  extent 
typical  of  many  of  the  excellent  hostelries  of  the 
coast,  though  my  recollection  is  that  there  are 
but  few  that  match  it  in  the  matter  of  moderate 
charges,  excellence  considered. 

Aside  from  the  charm  of  the  surroundings 
at  Monterey  there  are  few  places  in  California 
that  can  boast  of  greater  historic  interest.  Here 
was  the  capital  of  the  old-time  Spanish  territory 

165 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

and  the  building  which  the  governors  occupied 
is  still  standing.  And  it  was  over  this  building 
on  July  9th,  1846,  that  the  marines  from  the 
United  States  Ship  Portsmouth  raised  the  stars 
and  stripes  to  float  forever  in  place  of  the  Mexi- 
can flag. 

California  has  in  her  ruined  missions  and 
old  Spanish  traditions  a  touch  of  human  antiq- 
uity that  lends  an  added  charm  to  this  enchanted 
land.  The  atmosphere  of  sacred  romance  that 
hovers  around  England's  abbeys  is  not  wanting 
in  the  moss-grown,  vine-covered  ruins  that  are 
found  in  so  many  delightful  spots  in  the  Sunset 
State.  The  story  of  the  mission  is  a  fascinating 
one,  from  its  inception  in  zeal  and  poverty  and 
rise  to  affluence  to  its  decadence  and  final  aban- 
donment. The  monk,  always  in  the  vanguard 
of  Spanish  exploration  and  settlement,  came 
hither  about  the  middle  of  the  Eighteenth  Cen- 
tury. The  Franciscan  order  received  a  grant 
from  the  Spanish  throne  of  a  number  of  proper- 
ties in  southern  California.  The  first  mission 
was  founded  near  San  Diego  in  1769  by  Junipero 
Serra,  a  monk  of  true  piety  and  energetic  char- 
acter. Others  followed  him  and  in  all  twenty-one 
missions  were  established,  extending  along  the 
Pacific  from  San  Diego  to  San  Francisco.  All 
of  these  today  are  in  ruins  or  have  disappeared 

166 


OTHER  WONDERS 

except  four,  which  still  survive  under  the  con- 
trol of  the  Catholic  Church.  The  buildings  were 
wonderfully  well  constructed,  hard  brick,  hewn 
stone,  tile  roofs  and  heavy  timbers  being  so 
carefully  combined  that  they  have  well  with- 
stood the  ravages  of  time,  though  no  doubt  the 
equable  climate  has  also  contributed  to  their 
preservation.  The  old  notion  that  the  red  man 
will  not  perform  hard  manual  labor  is  contra- 
dicted here,  for  the  work  of  building  the  missions 
was  done  by  Indians  under  the  direction  of  the 
monks — and  hard  work  it  was,  for  the  stone  had 
to  be  quarried  and  dressed,  bricks  moulded  and 
burned,  and  the  heavy  timbers  brought  many 
miles,  often  on  the  men's  shoulders.  The  sav- 
ages were  reduced  to  a  state  of  peonage,  though 
it  seems  that  their  masters'  policy  was  generally 
one  of  kindness  and  there  were  but  one  or  two 
instances  where  an  uprising  against  the  priests 
occurred.  Taken  altogether,  there  are  few  other 
known  instances  where  white  men  had  so  little 
trouble  with  the  natives  with  whom  they  came 
in  contact.  The  priests  not  only  looked  after 
the  religious  instruction  of  their  charges,  but 
taught  them  to  engage  in  agriculture  and  such 
crude  manufactures  as  were  possible  under  the 
primitive  conditions  that  existed.  In  time  the 
mission  properties  became  enormously  valuable, 

167 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

their  revenues  from  different  sources  reaching 
as  much  as  $2,000,000  annually.  But  semi-civil- 
ization did  not  agree  with  the  natives — it  was 
the  beginning  of  decadence  among  the  Indian 
tribes  that  has  rendered  them  practically  extinct. 
The  missions  came  to  a  sudden  end  when  their 
properties  were  confiscated  by  the  Mexican  Gov- 
ernment to  recoup  the  depleted  treasuries  of 
Santa  Ana  in  his  struggles  with  the  Texans  and 
the  United  States.  After  the  annexation  of 
California  the  conditions  were  altogether  unfav- 
orable to  the  rehabilitation  of  the  old  regime, 
which  rapidly  faded  into  a  romantic  memory. 
Of  the  three  or  four  missions  which  still  survive, 
Santa  Barbara  is  the  largest  and  best  preserved, 
and  San  Gabriel  is  perhaps  the  best  known,  being 
on  the  regular  rounds  of  the  numberless  tourists 
who  visit  the  City  of  Angels.  At  the  latter  one 
may  see  much  of  the  old  order  of  things,  save 
that  the  confiding  native  no  longer  toils  and 
worships  in  the  sacred  precincts.  There  are 
many  curious  paintings  and  relics  and  a  vineyard 
famous  even  in  a  land  of  vineyards.  San  Diego, 
the  oldest  of  all,  and  San  Luis  Rey,  the  most 
beautifully  situated,  will  prove  the  most  inter- 
esting of  those  which  have  fallen  into  ruin. 

Like  the  English  monks  the  Spanish  padres, 
when  locating  their  establishments,  always  se- 

168 


THE  CEMETERY  GARDEN,  SANTA  BARBARA  MISSION,  CALIFORNIA 
Courtesy  Southern  Pacific  Railway 


OTHER  WONDERS 

lected  sites  with  delightful  surroundings  and 
commanding  views  of  beautiful  scenery — always 
in  the  most  fertile  valleys  and  adjacent  to  lake 
or  river.  Many  of  the  California  missions  are 
within  a  short  distance  of  the  Pacific,  whose 
dark  blue  waters  are  often  visible  through  the 
arched  cloisters,  lending  a  crowning  touch  of 
beauty  to  the  loveliness  of  the  semi-tropical 
landscapes.  And  in  sight  of  all  of  them,  snow- 
capped mountains  rear  their  majestic  forms 
against  a  sky  matched  only  by  that  of  Italy 
itself.  Fertile  fields  with  flowers,  fruit  trees  and 
palms,  usually  watered  by  irrigation  as  well  as 
the  winter  rains,  always  surrounded  the  mission 
buildings,  and,  indeed,  the  Arcadia  of  the  poets 
was  well-nigh  made  a  reality  under  the  sway  of 
the  California  padres. 

But  I  need  not  pursue  farther  the  never- 
ending  theme  of  the  romance  and  loveliness  of 
the  Sunset  State.  The  limit  of  my  modest 
volume  might  easily  be  stretched  into  a  whole 
library  and  much  of  the  story  still  remain  un- 
told. Truly,  the  American  citizen  who  has 
never  seen  California  has  missed  the  rarest  of 
his  country's  charms. 

In  Arizona,  aside  from  the  Canyon  region, 
there  is  much  of  weird  beauty  and  interest.  The 
great  irrigation  projects  are  constantly  extend- 

169 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

ing  the  habitable  spots  throughout  the  territory, 
and  it  takes  but  the  magic  touch  of  water  to 
make  this  sun-blighted  desert  burst  into  bloom 
and  fruitfulness.  In  the  Salt  River  Valley,  a 
green  oasis  of  some  two  thousand  square  miles, 
is  situated  Phoenix,  the  capital  city,  a  pretty  and 
progressive  town  which,  with  assured  statehood, 
would  seem  to  have  an  exceptional  future.  The 
Salt  River  Valley  is  a  level  plain,  verdant  with 
alfalfa  fields,  studded  with  palms  and  giant  cot- 
tonwoods,  and  girt  by  distant  mountains  so  blue 
and  ethereal  as  to  seem  almost  a  part  of  cloud- 
land  itself.  Rain  seldom  falls  and  all  the  year 
long  the  sun  shines  in  its  full  glory  on  this  pleas- 
ant vale  in  the  desert.  The  summers  are  hot,  it 
is  true,  but  the  monotony  of  continual  sunshine 
is  neutralized  by  the  verdure  and  bloom  that  one 
sees  always  and  everywhere. 

In  New  Mexico  there  is  also  much  to  en- 
gage the  attention  of  the  observant  traveler — 
far  too  much  to  admit  even  of  mention  in  such  a 
hurried  outline  as  I  am  sketching.  But  one  may 
not  entirely  pass  over  the  old  town  of  Santa  Fe, 
which,  strange  to  say,  contests  with  St.  Augus- 
tine for  the  honor  of  the  oldest  settlement  of 
white  man  within  the  present  limits  of  the 
United  States.  It  was  in  1605 — barely  more 
than  a  century  after  the  discovery  by  Columbus 

170 


OTHER  WONDERS 

— that  the  gold-seeking  cavaliers  of  Spain  pene- 
trated into  the  mountain  fastness,  far  inland, 
and  founded  with  great  ceremony  the  pretentious 
"La  Ciudad  Real  de  la  Santa  Fe  de  San  Fran- 
cisco/'— the  true  city  of  the  holy  faith  of  St. 
Francis.  In  its  unbroken  history  of  more  than 
three  hundred  years,  seventy-six  Spanish  rulers 
and  twenty  American  governors  have  succes- 
sively occupied  the  old  palace — a  long,  one-story 
building  with  a  square-pillared  colonnade  front- 
ing on  the  plaza.  It  is  indeed  a  historic  struct- 
ure, crowded  with  many  priceless  treasures — 
relics  of  its  former  occupants.  "There  are 
faded  pictures  of  saints  painted  upon  puma 
skins;  figures  laboriously  wrought  in  wood  to 
shadow  forth  the  Nazarene;  votive  offerings  of 
silver  brought  to  the  altar  of  Our  Lady  by  those 
who  had  been  healed  of  disease;  rude  stone  gods 
of  the  heathen,  domestic  utensils  and  imple- 
ments of  war.  There,  too,  may  be  seen  ancient 
maps  of  the  new  world  on  which  California  ap- 
pears as  an  island  in  the  Pacific  and  the  country 
at  large  confidently  set  forth  with  like  grotesque 
inaccuracy." 

They  will  tell  you  that  General  Lew  Wal- 
lace wrote  the  great  American  novel,  "Ben 
Hur,"  in  this  old  palace  during  the  time  he  held 
the  governorship  of  the  territory,  and  while  he  is 

171 


THREE  WONDERLANDS 

known  to  have  done  some  work  on  the  book  in 
the  Orient,  there  seems  to  be  no  doubt  but  that 
it  occupied  much  of  the  time  he  spent  in  Santa  Fe. 
One  will  find  many  other  places  of  interest 
about  the  town — touches  of  that  old-world  antiq- 
uity and  tradition  that  the  average  American 
town  so  sadly  lacks  confront  the  visitor  every- 
where. The  sturdy  little  adobe  church  of  San 
Miguel  claims,  perhaps  justly,  the  distinction  of 
being  the  oldest  place  of  Christian  worship  with- 
in the  present  limits  of  the  United  States.  It 
stands  in  an  aggregation  of  huts  that  crowd 
along  the  narrow  winding  lanes  which  serve  as 
streets.  It  has  been  somewhat  restored,  it  is 
true,  but  the  walls,  at  least,  are  the  same  ones 
reared  by  the  original  builders.  Near  by  is  a 
humble  adobe  dwelling,  still  occupied,  that  the 
patriotic  citizen  will  tell  you  is  the  oldest  house 
in  the  United  States,  having  been  in  existence 
as  early  as  1540,  when  an  Indian  pueblo  occupied 
the  site  of  the  present  town.  It  is  reputed  that 
Coronado  came  hither  in  course  of  his  wander- 
ings and  stopped  for  a  time  in  this  very  hut, 
though  of  course  the  mythical  element  may  have 
entered  into  this  tradition.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
old  Santa  Fe  has  so  much  of  quaintness  and  so 
much  of  indisputable  antiquity  that  no  one  who 
really  desires  to  know  the  West  can  omit  it  from 

172 


OTHER  WONDERS 

his  itinerary.  And  added  to  these  attractions 
it  has  a  climate  which  for  absence  of  extremes 
is  perhaps  unmatched  in  the  entire  country. 
Altogether,  if  Santa  Fe  were  better  known,  the 
number  of  tourists  who  now  visit  the  town  would 
be  multiplied  manyfold. 

In  the  great  Northwest  there  is  much  to  de- 
light and  interest.  The  Columbia  is  one  of  the 
most  majestic  of  rivers  and  there  are  unequalled 
vistas  along  its  valley  which  one  need  not  leave 
the  train  to  see.  Especially  delightful  is  the 
view  from  the  great  bridge  near  Portland,  and 
one  should  be  sure  to  take  a  daytime  train  when 
making  this  crossing.  Portland  is  one  of  the 
most  charming  of  the  coast  towns — the  city  of 
roses,  as  it  is  often  styled  from  the  almost  year- 
long profusion  of  bloom  that  encompasses  nearly 
every  private  house.  The  climate  here  is  never 
severe;  being  tempered  by  the  great  Japan  cur- 
rent, it  is  in  many  respects  similar  to  that  of  the 
British  Isles.  If  there  is  a  little  too  much  rain 
at  seasons  to  please  everyone,  it  is  atoned  for  by 
the  profusion  of  bloom  and  verdure. 

Seattle,  which  of  late  years  has  forged  ahead 
of  all  her  rivals  and  is  threatening  the  supremacy 
of  San  Francisco  itself,  is  still  wrestling  with 
the  problems  of  rapid  growth,  and  years  will 
doubtless  elapse  ere  the  crudeness  and  confusion 

173 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

which  are  evident  in  many  places  will  disappear. 
But  it  is  breezy,  pushing,  full  of  the  spirit  of 
progress,  with  an  unmatched  harbor,  so  deep 
that  they  can  wash  the  hills  into  it  with  power- 
ful hydraulic  pressure,  to  save  carting  the  dirt 
away — and  it  is  needless  to  say  that  the  future 
of  the  city  is  secure,  whatever  temporary  re- 
verses it  may  meet  with.  It  is  dominated  from 
all  points  of  view  by  the  snow-capped  summit 
of  Mount  Ranier,  the  loftiest  peak  in  the  coast 
country.  Its  slopes  are  clothed  with  dense  green 
pine  forests  and  its  summit  white  with  snow  the 
whole  year  round.  What  an  inspiration  it  must 
be  to  those  who  see  it  daily  and  have  in  their 
souls  enough  of  the  poetical  to  feel  the  majesty 
and  beauty  of  this  sublimest  of  mountain  peaks ; 
glowing  in  the  amber  hues  of  morning,  shrouded 
in  the  amethystine  haze  of  sunset,  bald  and 
awful  in  the  noonday  glare,  it  stands  always  the 
embodiment  of  all  that  is  most  impressive  and 
lovely  in  natural  scenery. 

Nor  can  anyone  say  that  he  has  seen  the 
best  of  the  picturesque  grandeur  of  the  Ameri- 
can continent  who  has  never  visited  the  Cana- 
dian Northwest.  Along  the  line  of  the  Canadian 
Pacific  Railway  is  a  succession  of  magnificent 
scenery  which  many  contend  is  not  surpassed 
by  anything  on  the  southern  side  of  the  border 

174 


OTHER  WONDERS 

line.  A  daylight  journey  through  the  section 
affords  the  opportunity  of  seeing  the  greater 
part  of  the  scenic  wonders,  since  the  railway 
passes  directly  among  them.  There  are  moun- 
tains, canyons,  lakes  and  mighty  forests — all  on 
a  titanic  scale  that  is  indeed  awe-inspiring.  The 
beauty  and  grandeur  seem  to  reach  their  culmi- 
nation in  Lake  Louise,  and  its  surroundings, 
which  is  undoubtedly  quite  the  equal  of  any 
mountain  lake  in  the  world. 

Old  Mexico,  which  at  the  moment  I  write 
is  involved  in  the  throes  of  a  revolutionary 
struggle,  has  been  a  favorite  theme  with  our 
artist,  and  few  will  realize  how  deservedly  its 
scenes  have  employed  his  brush  save  by  a  per- 
sonal visit  to  this  Egypt  of  the  West.  Here  are 
relics  of  a  civilization  more  ancient  and  advanced 
than  may  be  found  elsewhere  in  America — a  bar- 
barous civilization,  perhaps,  if  the  paradox  may 
be  allowed,  but  none  the  less  of  entrancing  inter- 
est. One  would  hardly  expect  to  find  in  the  so- 
called  New  World  a  scene  such  as  Mr.  Moran 
portrays  in  the  beautiful  picture  herewith,  but 
this  picturesque  ruin  is  at  Cuernavaca,  a  quaint 
old  town  near  the  capital  city.  The  church  dates 
from  the  time  of  Cortez  and  was  built  in  antici- 
pation that  the  capital  city  would  extend  towards 
it  and  encompass  it,  but  this  never  occurred. 

175 


THREE   WONDERLANDS 

The  whole  composition,  in  its  languorous,  ro- 
mantic beauty,  is  more  suggestive  of  Spain  or 
Morocco  than  of  America — the  ruin  against  the 
glowing  morning  sky,  the  white-walled,  many- 
towered  town  in  the  far  distance,  the  stone 
arches  of  the  bridge  and  the  group  of  women  in 
the  foreground,  all  seem  strangely  out  of  har- 
mony with  our  preconceived  ideas  of  what  we 
may  find  on  our  own  continent.  And  it  is  only 
typical  of  the  many  surprises  that  the  tourist  will 
find  in  our  sister  republic,  which,  with  restored 
tranquillity  and  a  more  flexible  and  democratic 
government,  is  bound  to  become  more  than  ever 
the  goal  of  the  intelligent  traveler  from  the 
States. 


176 


INDEX 


Absaroka   Range,    24,    36. 
Adamana  Station,  147. 
Amethyst    Mountain,     35. 

B 

Bagby   Dam,   97. 
Bea.ver    Lake,    44. 
Ben   Hur,    171. 
Black    Canyon,    162. 
Blackfeet   Indians,    49-50. 
Boulder   Bed,   121. 
Bradshaw    Mountains,    161. 
Bridal   Veil   Fall,    64,    95. 
Bright    Angel    Amphitheatre, 

160. 

Bright  Angel   Inn,    120. 
Bright      Angel      Trail,      115, 

119-120. 

Buckskin  Mountains,   160. 
Bunnell,   Dr.,    101. 
Bunsen,   18. 


Calavaras    Grove,    88-89. 
Canyon  Hotel,  15,    129. 
Canyon    Diablo,    155. 
Canyon   of   the   Colorado,    21. 


Canyon    jof    the    Rio    Virgin, 

134,   136. 
Canyon    of    the    Yellowstone, 

28,    30,    113. 
Cathedral    Rocks,    64. 
Cathedral   Spires,    24. 
Clark,    Galen,    86. 
Clouds    Rest,    68,    76. 
Coconino    Forest,    130,    161. 
Colorado     River,     112,      116, 

119-120,      122,     124,     136- 

137,  140,    157,    161. 
Colter,    John,    19,    50-51. 
Columbia   River,    22,    173. 
Columbus,    20,    170. 
Coronado,    129,    135,    172. 
Cortez,    135,    175. 

Crow   Indians,    49. 

Crystal   and   Rainbow   Forest, 

148. 
Cuernavaca,    175. 

D 

Dellenbaugh,    Capt.    Fred    S., 

138,  159. 

Del  Monte  Hotel,  164-165. 

Del  Portal,    96. 

Devils    Corkscrew,    123,    12">. 

Doane,    Capt.    49,    54. 

Don    Pedro    del   Tovar,    129. 


177 


INDEX. 


Eagle  Peak,   76. 

El   Capitan,    64,   68,    75,   101. 

El    Portal,    60,    63,    81,    91, 

95,  105. 
El  Tovar,   10,  112,   120,   126, 

129,   131. 

Emerald   Pool,   13. 
Evarts,  55. 
Excelsior   Geyser,    19,   53. 


Firehole   River,   22,   53. 
Flagstaff,    147,    152,    159. 
Fort  Yellowstone,   32,   38. 
Fountain  Geyser,  53. 
Fountain  Hotel,   15. 
Four  Peaks,  160. 
Fra  Marcofi,   111. 

o 

Gardiner,    3-6,   45. 

Glacier  Point,   67,    69,    74-75, 

78. 

Glacier  Point  Hotel,  73. 
Glacier    Point   Trail,    72,    76, 

94,    100,    106,    120. 
Golden    Gate,    39,    164. 
Grand  Canyon,  111-113,   115- 

117,     119-120,     123,     129- 

130,    132,    134,    136,    159, 

162. 

Grand   River   Canyon,   162. 
Green   River,   136,   139. 
Grizzly    Giant,    83-84. 
Gulf  of   California,   140. 


H 

Half    Dome,    67-68,     72,    76, 

100. 

Happy  Isles,   71. 
Harvey,    Fred,    130. 
Harvey  Hotels,  Fred,  111. 
Hayden,   Dr.,    38. 
Heart  Lake,  26. 
Higgins,    C.   A.,    149. 
Koodoos,   The,    39. 
Hopi,   The,   157. 
Hopi   House,    127-128. 
Hopi  Point,   116-117. 
Humphreys  Peak,  159. 
Hurricane  Mountains,   161. 
Hutchings,   Mr.   A.   C.,   87-88, 

103-104. 


I 

Illilouette,  Canyon  of,  73. 
Indian  Garden,  115,  122. 
Inspiration  Point,  30,  93. 
Ives,  Lieutenant,  136. 


Jacob's  Ladder,  125. 
Juniper  Range,  161. 
Junipero  Serra,  166. 


K 

Kaibab   Plateau,  160. 
King's  River  Forest,   89. 
Kipling,   Rudyard,    28. 


178 


INDEX. 


Laguna,   156. 

Lake  Colonial   Hotel,    14,   16. 

Lake   Hotel,   5,    14-15,   23-24, 

27,   29,  45. 

Le  Conte,   Prof.,    100. 
Lewis   and    Clark    Expedition, 

49. 

Lewis  Lake,   26. 
Liberty  Cap,   72. 
Livingston,    6,    21. 
Long  Beach,   164. 
Lower  Falls,  54. 

M 

Mammoth    Hot    Springs,    4-5, 

15,    32,    37-39,    43,    54. 
Mariposa   Grove,    61,    82,    84, 

86,    105. 

Merced    Fall,    97. 
Merced   River,   63,   108. 
Merced     River     Canyon,     60, 

96. 

Merced   Valley,    102-103. 
Meteorite       Mountain,       153- 

155. 

Mexican  Gulf,   163. 
Mirror  Lake,    59,    69,    75. 
Mogollon  Plateau,   160. 
Mokis,  157-158. 
Monos,    103. 
Moran,     Thos.,     28,     32,     64, 

131,   156. 

Morning-Glory    Spring,    13. 
Mount    Broderick,    72. 
Mount     of    the     Holy     Cross, 

162. 


Mount  Rainer,    174. 

Mount  Washburn,   32-33,    54. 

Mount    Washington,    113. 

Mud    Volcano,    53. 

Muir,    John,     32,    83-84,     87, 

89,    94,   101,   148. 
Muirhead,  Dr.,   165. 

N 

Navajo    Reservation,    160. 
Nevada  Falls,   69,   71-72,    76. 
Norris  Basin,  3,  5,   13,   32. 
North    Sigillaria   Forest,    148. 

o 

Oak  Creek  Canyon,   161. 
Obsidian  Cliff,   44. 
Old   Faithful   Geyser,    19-20. 
Old    Faithful   Inn,    10-12,    14, 

16,   29,  40,   45,  129. 
Overhanging    Rock,    74. 


Pacific  Ocean,   163. 
Painted  Desert,  160. 
Pasadena,   164. 
Powell,   Major    John  Wesley, 

136,    138-139. 
Prismatic  Lake,   53. 

R 

Raymond.   105. 

Redwood,   82. 

Riverside,    23. 

Rocky    Mountain    Range,    41, 

141,    162. 
Royal   Gorge,    162. 


179 


INDEX. 


St.  Augustine,   170. 

Salt   Lake   City,   3. 

San  Diego,   168. 

San  Francisco,  173. 

San  Francisco   Peak,   161. 

San   Gabriel,    168. 

San    Joaquin    Valley,    97. 

San  Luis  Rey,   168. 

San    Miguel,    172. 

Santa    Anna,    168. 

Santa   Barbara,    164,    168. 

Santa   Catalina,    164. 

Santa  Fe,    170,   172. 

Santa  Fe  Trail,   111. 

Seattle,  173. 

Sentinel  Dome,    65,   68. 

Sentinel  Hotel,   65,   68,  95. 

Sentinel  Rock,   64. 

Sequoia,    79,   82-83,    87. 

Sequoia   Gigantea,    87. 

Sequoia    Sempervirens,    87. 

Seven    Cities    of   Cibola,    135, 

157. 

Shiva   Temple,    121. 
Shoshone  Lake,   26-27,    40. 
Shoshone    Point,    40-41. 
Sierra  Forests,   78,  83. 
Sleeping  Giant,  24. 
Stanton,    Lieut.    R.    B.,    140. 
Sulphur  Mountain,   52. 
Sunset  and  Peachblow  Crater, 

161. 
Superstition    Mountains,    160. 

T 

Ten-ie-ya,   102. 
Tetons,   The,   40-41. 


Three  Forks,  52. 

Thumb   Station,   5,   23. 

Tolte   Gorge,    162. 

Tower  Falls,    32,   36-37,   54. 

Twin   Sisters,    148. 

u 

Upper  Geyser   Basin,    12,    22- 
23,   27,   55. 

V 

Vado   de  los  Padres,   136. 
Vernal    Falls,    69,    71-72,    76, 

100. 
Virgin   River,    136. 

w 

Wallace,   General   Lew,   171. 
Walnut    Canyon,    151. 
Washburn,  General,   54. 
Wawona,  67,  78,  85,  91,  105. 
Wylie    Permanent    Camps,    6. 


Yellowstone    Hotel,    3. 
Yellowstone     Lake,     18,     23, 

25-26,  34,   42,  46,   53-54. 
Yellowstone    Park,    1,    6,    14, 

17-18,    21-22,    27,    41,    45, 

104,   123-124,    162. 
Yellowstone   River,   52,   57. 
Yosemite,     59,     61,     75,     104, 

113,   123,   162. 
Yosemite  Fall,   65,   75. 


Zuni,    157. 


180 


14  D/V 


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